


Like a Good Boy

by AsexualDerek (Cammerel)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Fingering, BDSM, Begging, Biting, Bruises, Bruising, Cleaning, Comfort, Commanding, Control Issues, Creeper Peter, Crying, Dirty Talk, Display, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Dominance, Exhibitionism, Fingerfucking, Foreskin Play, Harassment, M/M, Marking, More warnings as chapters progress, Mutually Beneficial D/s Relationship, Necessity, Not Established, Oral Knotting, Orgasm Control, Panic Attacks, Rewarding, Rimming, Rutting, Sexual Harassment, Skull Fucking, Spanking, a little bit, force, foreskin, suffocation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-18 00:49:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/873814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/AsexualDerek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has a problem with sex, but it’s not the one he’s been anticipating. Now that he knows what it is, he’s having a hard time accepting it. Choices don’t come easily, thankfully someone else is willing to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Slightly AUish in the sense that an unknown amount of time has passed, Stiles is in College.

Stiles was aware that when most people lost their virginities it wasn’t the ‘best’ experience of their lives. So many things that could go wrong normally **went** wrong, and it was over fast, some times embarrassingly so.

That had been his initial thought going in, he’d always been very sexual, and sensitive, and he’d made sure to get off beforehand, just so he wasn’t the early arrival. But what followed was **far** worse than anything he could’ve ever imagined.

Not only was getting off **still** the issue, but he couldn’t get off at **all**. She was a gorgeous girl, with a nice body, and they weren’t really ‘dating’ yet, but it **was** steadily becoming a thing. Everyone in his pack knew her, and she may have known about the werewolves - she also may have been a hunter herself, or was that huntress? But Stiles wasn’t sure if she’d been the issue.

Halfway through he just **wasn’t** getting into it. She was eager, more than eager, blonde hair wet with sweat, and just as he started to realize that he didn’t even _like_ what was happening, he was as limp as a noodle, and that was the end of it.

Afterwards, the thought of getting it up even slightly was a joke, and she had _tried_ , tried mercilessly for almost an hour before he assured her that it wasn’t going to happen. He put on his clothes and left, and they were pretty much over after that.

Stiles spent countless hours afterwards wondering _what_ was wrong with him. He could get completely hard over some of the stupidest, most mundane things, but he couldn’t stay that way with a naked girl under him and around him, and holding onto his shoulders? And yeah, that was the case, because even the thought of that - something _normal_ \- just didn’t do it.

That thought led to a lot of soul searching, trying to figure out what did it for him, and he only found these subtle slivers of it in porn he watched, but after the third case of the same thing turning him on, Stiles had to admit that he had a kink, a kind of kink that pretty much crippled the opposition. And suddenly a girl being submissive under **him** , and counting on **him** , resulting in turning him off completely made a **lot** of sense.

Stiles wasn’t really ready to embrace it, or seek it out, he was actually kind of ashamed by it, but it got him every **time** he wanted to get off. Every time he thought of it, even considered it, it was like either get off or walk around with a boner for the rest of the day.

He’d never find someone that would do that with him, though, it’s not like you can open up conversations between you and someone you’re interested in by asking them if they’re the 'dominant' kind.

Trying to find a woman that would do that was near impossible, probably completely, so Stiles just pushed it back and worried about college and monsters, and helping the pack in whatever way that he could, which some times included taking care of herb gardens, or reading books, or talking to Peter.

Stiles was about the only one that could stomach being around the guy, everyone else still glared at him, or rolled their eyes, but his sass and Stiles’s sarcasm bred a kind of comfortable agreement between the two men, and Derek probably knew that asking Stiles to take something to Peter wouldn’t result in a comment like ‘me, why me?’, like Scott had done before.

Stiles kept the leather bag of seeds in his lap as he drove - it was a mindless task, but he had time to kill, and it wasn’t like anyone else would take them. He parked his jeep by Peter’s car and climbed out, moving to the older man’s door and knocking as he peeked in the bag.

Peter curled his fingers around the stem of his wine glass and sauntered lazily to the door, peeking through the peephole and sighing before opening it, “I presume you’re here for my help regarding something, or Derek asked you to come for some reason.”

Raising a brow, the werewolf sipped his sangria and stepped aside, smirking at the younger man, “Please, do come in.”

“Derek said you had the seed book last, so...” Stiles stepped inside, moving to Peter’s book shelf after he’d taken off his shoes.

He ignored most of the texts that caught his eyes and settled for the smallish, leather-bound book he was most familiar with, “I’m just gonna uh... Sit at the table, and do it here,” He said as he did so, scratching his neck and flipping through the book as he poured the seeds out on the surface, “You any good with puzzles?”

Peter narrowed his eyes and watched the younger man before moving to join him at the table, glass clinking as he sat it down and leaned back in the seat, crossing his legs, “I’m particularly good with a lot of things, Stiles.”

He couldn’t help but observe the younger man’s face, he’d always been a little more than intrigued with the sheriff’s son, “Why do you ask?”

Stiles moved the book to sit between them, pointing to the drawings of the seeds, “There’s two kinds that look alike and I need to separate them,” He pulled a little flat-bottomed bottle out of his pocket and set it on the table, “You know, if you’re not doing anything. You look pretty bored.” He started pulling out the seeds that weren’t either of the two, putting them back in the bag.

Peter leaned forward enough to look at the book, meeting the boy’s eyes again. He was tempted to tell him 'no', simply decline and watch Stiles carry out the task himself.

Letting the silence stretch out between them, the werewolf finally nodded once and rolled his sleeves up before beginning to sift through the seeds, separating them all accordingly. “I’ll humor you, Tom Sawyer,” Peter said and grinned slyly, “Though, I was **not** bored.”

“So,” Stiles cleared his throat, “Some of those books up there aren’t like... Published books, like things you’d find in say... Borders.” He had maybe looked over the shelf a few times before, curious to pick one up, but never having the nerve to do so, “Are any about werewolves? Or your family or something?”

“Most of them are, actually,” Peter said somewhat distantly, pausing a moment to look up at Stiles and he quirked a brow, “And I’m assuming that you’re just dying to get your bony little fingers on one of them, aren’t you?” He asked, glancing back and forth between Stiles and the bookshelf.

“Or **all** of them,” Stiles said, shrugging and glancing at Peter, “I might have a thing for unpublished books,” He admitted then, hopefully coming off as harmless.

The older man was sort of sneaky in that way, appearing to be collective, only letting out things on a 'need to know' basis, Stiles couldn’t imagine him just loaning out the books out of the goodness of his heart. He’d likely want something in return, but Stiles couldn’t imagine what he could offer to the werewolf, to get his ‘bony little fingers’ on **any** of them.

Peter rolled his bottom lip between his teeth as he kept his eyes on the younger man. It wasn’t necessarily like he was an evil guy, anymore, but he still schemed a little from time to time. Old habits die hard and all, and it was mostly harmless. If he loaned the books to Stiles, perhaps he could collect a favor in turn at some point.

“And I may have a _thing_ for annoying younger men with insatiable appetites for knowledge,” He admitted, eyes glinting, but his expression otherwise blank as he nodded towards the bookshelf, “Go ahead, but only one at a time.” At least that way, Stiles would have to return for more.

“Seriously?” Stiles blinked and looked at Peter in surprise, “I don’t have to like... Blow you or anything? Because I was about to offer,” It was meant to come off as something casual, but the moment it spilled from his lips he realized how inappropriate it was to say to someone that **wasn’t** Scott. He stood instead, so he didn’t have to stare at Peter in mortification, moving to the shelf to pick one of the books.

Peter raised an inquisitive brow and his smirk deepened, watching Stiles as he moved towards the books in embarrassment, “Then it would seem I gave into you entirely too soon, perhaps I should have held out a bit longer.”

The werewolf sighed and finished sorting the seeds, “Oh well, I suppose.”

Stiles ignored the comment because it wasn’t unlike Peter to make off ones. He grabbed a book and moved back to the table, setting it down as he took his seat back up, “I get the feeling that you don’t like letting these out of your sight."

“Your assumption would be correct.”

Stiles nodded as his fingers traced the cover of the one taken down, “Are there **any** other copies of this one?”

Peter looked at the book Stiles chose and glanced up to meet the boy’s eyes, “No.”

He uncrossed his legs and leaned in slowly, reaching out to rest his palm on the younger man’s forearm, “Don’t make me regret lending it to you,” He said softly, but his tone was still somewhat threatening.

Stiles only felt **slightly** intimidated by Peter’s words, but he nodded, nevertheless, “So... I can’t doggy-ear the pages? Or _highlight_ anything?” While he did that in school text books, he would never even **dream** of harming a first (and only) edition book.

Peter let his palm linger on Stiles’s arm and he shook his head, “No,” He said firmly, eyes boring into the younger man’s before he finally pulled his hand away, “I suggest you take the utmost care of my book like a good little boy, I’d really hate to mar your beautiful skin.”

Stiles’s eyes widened and he felt incredibly aroused the moment Peter said ‘ _good little boy_ ’, and it was like fifteen kinds of wrong and dirty, and like he’d said before, he got hard over some of the strangest, most unreasonable things. His dick pressed against the front of his jeans and his cheeks flushed as he turned to gather his things, “I... Should get going,” His hand hit the bottle of seeds and he stopped to collect them, keeping his gaze downcast.

Peter’s nostrils flared the moment he watched Stiles’s pupils dilate and the smirk curving his lips turned vicious. He didn’t say anything, though, more than content to watch the younger man scramble for his belongings as he breathed in the heady, intoxicating scent of the boy’s arousal.

“I’ll um... Be back la-I mean I’ll return the book... Later,” Stiles grabbed the bottle finally, and the bag of seeds, and Peter’s book before he stood from the table and his eyes met the older man’s, cheeks red from embarrassment and he couldn’t believe he was nearly fully erect for no fucking reason, in front of Derek’s uncle.

There was no doubt in his mind that Peter could fucking smell how turned on he was, whether he knew _why_ or not didn’t really matter at the moment. Stiles turned to leave, book under arm as he tried to walk as normally as possible.

Peter just nodded at Stiles and grabbed his wine glass, leaning back in his chair once again as he watched the younger man leave. He couldn’t help but chuckle quietly at the boy’s crooked gait, somewhat smug because he’d been the one who’d caused it. It had been purely accidental, but he had a feeling that the things he said would be a little more intentional from henceforth.

Stiles stuffed the stopper in the bottle and tossed his things into the passenger’s seat, tucked between the book and the backrest as he all but peeled out of Peter’s driveway.

He couldn’t do one fucking thing, for one day, without getting hard. This time it was different though. Normally it was pretty stupid things, like the shape of a cloud, or someone talking before needing to clear their throat, or sneezing, or some other moronic thing, but this was actually his... His _kink_ thing.

People touched him all the time, why was it different when **Peter** had? Christ, Stiles could still feel the palm resting on his arm. And saying ‘no’ like that... And-Stiles pulled over, unbuttoning his jeans and not even bothering to put the jeep in park as he tugged himself furiously.

It was rude almost, how quickly his orgasm came, and how hard he tried to buck his hips into his hand as he took in his bottom lip. Those same, bony fingers wrapping the length over and still pulling the foreskin over the head long after he’d gotten off.


	2. Chapter 2

After dropping the seeds off with Derek and getting an unusual look from the alpha, Stiles went home and read over the book. He didn’t get too far into it, and he **didn’t** fap to thinking about what Peter had said to him - he didn’t.

College took up the rest of the week and in between that time he used his spare time to finish the book. He imagined Peter didn’t want to part from it for too long, so he used that fucking excuse on Saturday to drop back by and exchange books. He got off **twice** beforehand, just to make sure he wouldn’t get hard again if Peter tried anything. Once was bad enough.

Stiles leafed through the books on the shelf, keeping his face turned from Peter, “Are these in any particular order?”

“Some are simply journals, others are written documentation on my kind,” Peter offered and moved closer, stepping up behind Stiles as he looked at the bookshelf over the boy’s shoulder.

“I could probably help you out, you know...” He murmured almost heatedly in Stiles’s ear, “If you tell me what it is precisely you’re looking for.” The werewolf had been pleased that Stiles had finally returned his book, eager to test the younger man’s limits.

Stiles swallowed as he felt Peter move in close and he fought the urge to lean back or turn around, or ask the older man what the Hell he was doing, “I’m not really _looking_ for anything precise, I’m just... Exploring,” And he suddenly wasn’t sure if he, himself, was even talking about the books now. But, if that were the case, he knew _exactly_ what he wanted. Stiles turned to look at Peter, “Just... More, I guess. That’s what I’m looking for.”

Peter was beginning to think that they were no longer talking about books and he grinned slightly, reaching up to brush the back of his knuckles along the side of the boy’s neck, “ _More_ doesn’t really give me a whole lot to go on, Stiles.”

He wet his lips and glanced up from Stiles’s neck, to look him in the eyes as he dropped his hand away. The werewolf moved forward slowly and pushed Stiles against the bookshelf with nothing but his hips, searching the younger man’s face before he reached up and grabbed a particularly old leather bound book.

Peter pushed it to Stiles’s chest gently and backed away, “I think you’ll probably enjoy that one.”

Stiles felt his heart race when Peter pressed against him and, while it was seriously hot and arousing, it had **nothing** on what the alpha had caused inside of him before, but he couldn’t just **ask** for something like that. That had been his problem with relationships from the start. How do you know what the other person is going to say, or be okay with.

Chances were that Peter hadn’t even intended to do that dominant thing, and that it was just the older man being coy or demeaning. Stiles could think of _one_ way to possibly hint, and maybe it was also on the subject of the books he was looking at, “Can I ask you something that uh... Might be **really** really fucking totally personal?”

Peter sat down on the edge of his couch and raised a brow, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his thigh, “Certainly,” He said, suddenly extremely curious. The accelerated heart rate was enough to sate him, but he couldn’t help but feel somewhat disappointed over the fact that he’d failed to elicit the same level of arousal as he had last time.

“Different types of alphas, that’s a thing, right?” Stiles turned to Peter, holding the book in his hands as he joined the older man, “Like... You were **way** different with Scott than Derek has **ever** been. Does that have to do with your personality? Like traits in leadership and stuff? How you wanted him to do things, and all Derek asked from his pack was for them not to act like they were mentally handicapped?”

“Yes, it has a great deal to do with said alpha’s personality,” Peter narrowed his eyebrows at Stiles, sort of at a loss for what the boy’s point was with the question, “My nephew tends to be a little bit more lenient than I, perhaps that’s why his pack is such a mess. A little bit of order and authority would do you all wonders.”

“Well **that** depends on who you pick for betas as well, right? I mean, Scott wasn’t really receptive to your methods, but he probably didn’t seem like the rebellious kind, running around in the middle of the night, looking for half of a body while the cops were out doing the same thing,” Stiles commented a bit sarcastically, shrugging, “The rest of them though, the ones Derek picked, I think they’re the kind that need that sort of stable alpha. But that’s who you are? You just seem... I dunno, sort of docile in comparison, since you came back.”

“I **am** docile for the most part,” Peter agreed and nodded, “I have to be, because Derek won’t really accept anything less. But that doesn’t mean that that's who I am, you’ve seen what I’m capable of.”

He stood up then and furrowed his brows thoughtfully, “The things we could have achieved together, if only you had accepted the bite when I offered.”

“Yeah, but that’s not who I am, I think you know that now,” Stiles said nervously, “I wasn’t loyal to **you** , I was loyal to Scott. And I’m loyal to a fault, unlike most of the pack - it comes to me naturally. I don’t have to **try** to be loyal. Even if it’s something I wanted, Scott wouldn’t have, not for a second. I’m better as a human, anyways, I think. We can’t all be werewolves.”

“Touche,” Peter smirked and moved further away, dropping back onto his chaise lounge and propping his feet up, “Your loyalty is an admirable trait, pity that it’s usually misguided.”

Stiles frowned, and Peter’s words reminded him of how easy it had been for Scott to betray **him** in return, though he’d been under the effects of the full moon, and Stiles didn’t like to fault him for it, it had **still** happened, “Yeah, well, loyalty isn’t really a _smart_ trait, it normally just gets people killed. Derek’s like that, too. He’s loyal, and it’s done nothing but get him hurt. Chances are that’ll be me in another five years.”

He opened the book he was holding then, flipping through it, “Must be weird, being a submissive dominant person to your nephew of all people.”

“Well, it’s definitely not easy,” Peter admitted, “But I suppose we all do what we have to in order to get by.” He watched Stiles, eyes flicking to the way the younger man’s fingers leafed carefully through the pages, “What sparked your curiosity in the first place?”

“My curiosity on that particular subject has probably been sparked for **years** ,” Stiles responded mindlessly, “I mean, I don’t forget things easily. I remember how you were, what you did, same with Derek. I’ve wondered about it for a while, I just never really asked because... Well... Derek doesn’t like talking, and I doubt he knows as much as he wishes he did, anyways, and you’re... Umm... I don’t know, you’re just not really easy to approach. You intimidate the others, and make them uncomfortable. And it’s not really different for me, which is **actually** weirder than you probably think it is. But, for them, it’s because you’re still like this creepy fucking monster guy who tried to get us all killed.”

Peter couldn’t really help but smile, because he loved knowing that other people were intimidated by him. It gave him some sense of power even though he wasn’t the alpha anymore.

“Is that how you still see me, Stiles?” He asked, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement, “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

Stiles swallowed as he stopped leafing through the pages and met Peter’s eyes, “Uh, well...” He turned his head, looking away, back to the bookshelf as he shrugged. He couldn’t really **lie** to Peter, the guy would know, but with the way the alpha made it sound, Stiles wasn’t really sure what would be a _right_ answer, and what would be wrong to say.

Peter sat up a little straighter in his seat and narrowed his eyes at Stiles, “Well what?” He asked, “Do. I. Make. You. Uncomfortable?”

The werewolf continued to stare at the younger man and he forced himself back up, moving over to the boy and grabbing him by the chin to lift his gaze, “Look at me and answer.”

Stiles gasped slightly and felt that wash of arousal kick in like it had before, only more now, stronger than before. He met Peter’s eyes as his cheeks flushed, “Not... not really uncomfortable, just... Because it was different for me, even then, I saw a side of you no one else saw, when-when you took me, when you offered me the bite, when you didn’t... When you respected my choice.”

Peter kept hold of Stiles’s chin and smirked when the warm scent hit him, apparently the boy liked to be... _Controlled_?

His eyes skimmed over Stiles’s face, “You’re easily excitable aren’t you?” He asked, tone dipping to a husky growl, “The books are just an excuse,” The werewolf pointed out and let his hand glide down Stiles’s neck, thumb brushing over the boy’s Adam’s apple, “Why do you keep coming back?”

Stiles’s body ached at the touch, so much more aroused from that **alone** , in comparison to his only real experience with sex. He shook his head slightly, staring the older man in the eyes, “I...”

He didn’t know what to say to defend himself, Peter wasn’t a fucking moron, he was pretty aware of Stiles’s arousal, “I get hard from the stupidest things, okay, it’s nothing. It’s... It’s nothing, okay? Don’t think anything of it, I mean, Scott’s seen me get hard over fire hydrants and like... Those chips you can put on your fingers, the cone-shaped ones? It’s seriously nothing, okay?”

Peter frowned at the younger man’s flippant tone and shook his head once, “It’s not nothing.”

He let his thumb trail across the younger man’s skin, down to the neckline of his shirt, “You didn’t answer me, Stiles, you’re trying to be dismissive. Now...” He flashed his ice-blue eyes at the boy and raised his brows expectantly, “Tell me why you keep coming back.”

Stiles shook his head again, even more so now, “Because I’m fucked up,” He said, shoulders rising slightly as he forced himself not to look away. Peter was very insistent, and while he wanted to answer, he also **didn’t** want to answer, “I just... I wanna feel like-”

He shook his head once more, at a loss for words because it was still really new to him, he was still **very** ashamed of it, and he was kind of worried about voicing it aloud, “I really should go.”

Peter nodded slowly and took a solid step backwards, jerking his chin towards the door, “Then go, but next time you come by... I expect an answer, and if you don’t have one, then my books no longer leave this house.”

He stared intently at Stiles and stuffed his hands in his pockets, “Now go.”

Stiles felt like the bad student leaving the classroom, and he positioned his book unusually in front of him and was out the door before Peter had finished telling him to leave. The older man wasn’t wrong in wanting an explanation, Stiles **was** kind of invading his home and reading his books, taking up his time. But that didn’t stop Stiles from staying away for nearly half a month the second time.

In which time, he avoided Peter at pack meetings, arriving late and leaving early, not even looking in the werewolf’s general direction. Stiles read the book over nearly four times and was finally so fed up with ignoring Peter that he **had** to see him. He wasn’t sure what explanation he was going to give him, but he hoped that maybe the werewolf wouldn’t press again.

Stiles parked a little roughly and moved to the door, knocking and letting out a sharp breath as he waited.

As time pressed by and Stiles blatantly ignored him, Peter began to wonder if the younger man would stop by again. He’d have to, honestly, because he still had the werewolf’s book in his possession.

The knock was only a slight surprise, and like he had so many times before, he stalked over to the door and swung it open, but there was no smirk or smile this time. “I was beginning to wonder if I’d have to come after my book,” He said, looking the younger man over as he stepped out of the way to let him in.

“Yeah, no, uh... Sorry. The book’s fine, I just... Got... Busy,” Stiles winced at the lie, but it was really unavoidable, “College takes up a lot more time than it has any right to.”

He closed his mouth then, figuring the more he talked, the more he was likely going to dig himself a hole like he had last time. The only time he tried to learn more about Peter and it had ended up backfiring on him completely, Stiles wasn’t going to make that mistake again.He moved to the shelf, putting the book back where Peter had pulled it from, eyes glancing over the other books surrounding it.

Peter furrowed his brows at the lies and rolled his eyes, taking back up his seat on the couch, “If that’s the case, then you should find a book and go.”

He was well aware that he’d told Stiles that if he didn’t have an excuse ready, that he wasn’t taking any more books home, but the little game - or whatever it was they were playing - was slowly becoming less and less amusing.

“And let it be known that I don’t appreciate being lied to,” He picked up the remote and changed the channels on his television, “I would almost rather you keep ignoring me.”

Stiles pulled back from the shelf and shook his head, “Nah, I’m... I’m good,” He said, moving from the books and walking back to the door, “I just wanted to return yours. I don’t wanna outstay my welcome **too** much.”

He pulled his shoes on again. Derek would send him back on some useless errand anyways, and he’d probably just move on from there - coming over to borrow books was probably weird, and he knew now that he was imposing on Peter’s privacy, and probably had already shared _far_ too much about himself.

Peter sighed and turned in his seat to look at Stiles, not bothering to mention that the younger man hadn’t exactly worn out his welcome quite yet, “Stiles,” He said pointedly, glancing at the bookshelf, “Take one, but this time, don’t wait the better part of a month before you return it.”

It was the first time Stiles felt _weird_ taking a book from Peter, but he did it anyways, grabbing one without even looking at what it was and walking back to the door again.

The older man hadn’t asked _why_ he kept coming back, again, even though he’d said he wanted an answer, but Stiles didn’t bring it up, “I’ll be back next Saturday,” He said, balling his other hand into a fist to collect himself.

Peter let his gaze linger a little longer before he nodded, otherwise silent as he turned back around to give the television his full attention. Perhaps Stiles wouldn’t act like he was in such a hurry next time, or at least that was what the werewolf hoped.


	3. Chapter 3

The next time Stiles came over happened to be **before** Saturday. Turned out that the seedlings Derek had started growing needed more room, and the next best spacious house was Peter’s.

Stiles had about fifteen pages of the book left, so he’d brought it along, figuring he’d finish there, instead of going by two days in a row, considering gas wasn’t really in agreeance with his jeep at the moment. He tucked the book in the back of his jeans and moved to the rear end of the jeep, pulling the twelve potted plants from inside and closing the top before making his way to the door and kicking it gently with the tip of his shoe.

Peter hadn’t really been expecting anyone over, at least not until Saturday, and he was confused as to who it could have been up until Stiles’s increasingly familiar scent filled his senses. He opened the door without hesitation and stepped aside, slightly perturbed that it was becoming automatic to just step aside to let Stiles in.

He glanced at the potted plants and grimaced, “I should probably warn you, I don’t exactly have a green thumb.”

“They don’t really need much,” Stiles said, shrugging, “Derek’s working on some kinda greenhouse or something, but there’s not really anywhere else to put them right now, so, eh, well... I can come over and help out, if you can’t pour a cup of water in each of them every other morning,” He set them on the table and looked down at the little green plants, “Are herbs like some kinda werewolf thing? I mean I know you guys love your deadly poisons, but I don’t think that’s what these are.” 

“Herbs can be useful, but they’re not necessarily a werewolf thing,” Peter shrugged nonchalantly, staring intently at the little sprouts before meeting the younger man’s eyes, “It’s more of a supernatural thing in general. Or, you know, a **cooking** thing. I fear I don’t know what my nephew’s up to with these, though.” He flicked one of the little green leaves and bounced once on the balls of his feet, not mentioning the younger man’s offer to come over and help.

Stiles nodded slowly as he looked back down to the plants, “I grew a bean in like... Second grade or something. I don’t think I have the patience for it, but it turned out uh... Kinda okay.”

He pulled the book from the back of his jeans, “I’m not really big on waiting for things to grow, I’m more an ‘at pace’ kind of person. So I’m like a few pages from the end, do you mind if I just finish it while I’m here?”

“Not at all,” Peter said, smirking as he gestured towards the couch, “Take a seat. No rush this time?” He followed suit and sat down as well, crossing his legs and propping his feet up on the coffee table.

“Nah, I’ve kinda got time to kill, and even if I didn’t, I’d probably avoid going home,” Stiles kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the couch, sitting cross-legged and propping the book open in his lap, he pulled the bookmark from the center of the pages and toyed with it as he read, mindlessly biting on the end of it as he sat back.

Peter’s eyes raked over the boy’s body shamelessly, taking in his long legs, gaze sweeping up to Stiles’s mouth and he bit down on his bottom lip to keep from saying something obscene, “Why would you want to avoid going home? Are things rocky between you and your father or do you just enjoy my company that much?”

Stiles chuckled and glanced up at Peter, “Both,” He admitted, “Things have been rocky since college started. But if I wasn’t here, I’d just go somewhere else, probably back to Derek’s or something, to help with the greenhouse, but I’d rather **not**.”

“Who could blame you, really?” Peter grinned genuinely, taking far too much enjoyment in making fun of his stoic relative, “Derek’s idea of conversation consists of a glare and a noncommittal grunt. I’d like to think I have a little more to offer.”

“It’s an improvement from shoving me into walls and smashing my head against my steering wheel,” Stiles said as he went back to the book, “But not that big of one. He’s still kind of aloof.” That, and Stiles wanted to be around Peter for _other_ reasons, but he wasn’t nearly ready to elaborate on that front. He took the end of his bookmark back in his teeth and flipped the page.

Peter shook his head to himself and leaned across the couch to snag the bookmark from between Stiles’s teeth, tossing it to the coffee table, “You really shouldn’t do that, you’ll ruin your teeth, and as nice as they are, it’d be a shame.” He’d taken it away mainly because the boy didn’t need to be chewing on it, and also partly because he wasn’t sure how much longer he could focus on Stiles’s mouth without snapping.

Stiles looked up and narrowed his brows, “It’s biting things that make my teeth what they **are** ,” He resorted to biting his nails instead, looking back down at the book and gnawing on his thumb nail as he tried to ignore Peter the best he could. Well, not really ignore the man, because who the Hell _could_? But he **did** want to finish his book, “And here I thought **I** was the one that couldn’t keep quiet.”

“And biting your nails can give you worms, amongst other diseases,” Peter argued, raising his brows pointedly as he moved closer, again, grabbing Stiles’s wrist and pulling his nails from his mouth, “Stop it,” He said firmly, staring into the younger man’s whiskey brown eyes before he finally let go.

“Worms?” Stiles raised his brows, “What are you like a microphobe or something?”

He put his nails back in his mouth in challenge, grinning around them before he turned his attention back to his book and put his foot out to stop Peter if he tried to move in again, “I’m trying to read, you’re being very distracting.”

“I could say the same for you,” Peter grabbed Stiles’s ankles and pulled the younger man’s feet to his lap, leaning once again to grip his wrist to pull his fingers away from his mouth, “Now, stop it, Stiles, I mean it.”

Stiles frowned and stared at the older man in confusion, “Are you kidding? I **can’t** really keep things out of my mouth,” He said, blushing once the words were out and he realized that they were in an unusual position as he arched his neck to reach for his fingers again, “What’s your problem? It’s just teething.”

Peter wanted to tell the younger man that he had something else he could stick in his mouth, but the thought alone left a bad taste in his own. He had more class than that.

The werewolf’s eyes flashed just briefly, hand tightening around the boy’s wrist to keep his fingers from his mouth, “I’ve told you twice, don’t make me tell you, again.”

Stiles stopped, swallowing and staring Peter in the eyes as it felt like his insides lit up. The man probably wasn’t doing it on purpose, he was probably pissed, or trying to be serious, and here Stiles was, finding the intense look and the demand _more_ than arousing. But... If he listened, then Peter likely wouldn’t do it again.

Stiles tested it, even as turned on as he was, and he was probably pushing the **wrong** buttons, but he took his free hand and put his fingers in his mouth again.

Peter’s gaze turned into a glare and his nostrils flared, scenting the air and practically growling at the arousal coming off of the boy in waves, “Why do you have to be so defiant?” He asked, looking pointedly at the younger man’s mouth before grabbing Stiles’s other wrist harshly, “Clearly ignoring my requests in **my** home, I should-” He closed his mouth suddenly to keep from saying what he’d been about to say, “Do you realize how disrespectful you’re being?”

Stiles winced as he looked at his wrists, “Ow, you’re hurting me,” He said, slowly licking his lips and his gaze flicked back up and met Peter’s glare head on and, even though the older man was whatever he was, pissed, disappointed, upset, Stiles was rock fucking hard and he regretted nothing.

Peter let go of Stiles’s wrists immediately and glanced down to the crotch of his jeans, raising a somewhat skeptical brow at the younger man, “Next time I suggest you listen,” He said, before scooting back to his side to let Stiles finish the book. The boy was… **Infuriating** , and as much as he wanted to bend him over his knee to tinge his ass cheeks pink, he also wanted to glide his fingers between said cheeks just to see how tight he was.

Stiles rubbed his wrist, narrowing his brows at Peter before he returned to his book yet again. He tried to will his arousal away, obviously the older man wasn’t going to _do_ anything to him, he probably wasn’t interested in the slightest, and Stiles wasn’t really leaving any time soon, so it was really just a distraction.

He pulled the book closer once he’d gotten it down somewhat, flipping the page and fighting the urge to bite his nails. He quickly finished the book, getting up and moving to the shelf and returning it, glancing around at the rest and starting from the top instead, grabbing the first book and looking at the cover of a leather bound journal.

Peter waited patiently as the younger man finished leafing through the book, leaning forward as Stiles stood and moved back to the shelf. He stood as well and frowned when he noticed which one the boy had grabbed.

The werewolf took the journal and put it back, looking at Stiles somewhat sternly, “You can read every single one of them... **Except** for that one, it’s off limits.”

Peter grabbed Stiles’s hand gently and turned his palm over, looking at the slight bruising forming from where he’d held him too tight and brought the marred flesh up to his mouth to kiss it. Letting his lips linger for a moment, he met the younger man’s eyes and finally let Stiles’s hand go all together, “Understood?”

Stiles raised his brows as he watched Peter, as he felt the lips on his skin and he wanted to lean into them, but he fought the urge. He nodded and reached for the second one just beside it, his heart racing as he smiled sort of tentatively.

Now, he was even more curious about the first one, but he listened to the older man. Peter didn’t ask much of him, considering he was still letting Stiles read them, the least he could do was respect the werewolf’s rules, “Yeah, okay.”

“Good,” Peter murmured and smirked at Stiles as he pocketed his hands, “Obedience will get you further with me than defiance. I’m really not that difficult to get along with.” He stepped back and looked towards the kitchen, “Would you like something to drink?”

“Uh, sure, yeah,” Stiles said tentatively, watching the older man. He’d never really felt turned on by someone that reminded him more of a **teacher** or something, some kind of human-shaped well of knowledge and presence, and authority.

Stiles probably had deep-seeded issues with finding that attractive, but to each their own. He liked that Peter could make him feel something so different than anything he’d ever experienced in his life. Sure, he got aroused by the sound of popcorn being popped, or the thought of noodles going soft in hot, boiling water, but this was different.

This was more than how Lydia made him feel, and sure, he was kind of worried that **if** it could progress, and did, would he still go limp halfway through? Would it matter if Peter was fucking **him** instead? Or maybe it didn’t have to be sex, maybe it could just be Peter telling him what to do, and Stiles getting off in his jeep just shortly down the road.

Peter had seen the types of things Stiles drank, so he didn’t really bother to ask what he wanted before he sauntered off to the kitchen to grab a can of coke from the refrigerator.

The werewolf walked back into the other room and offered the soda, licking his own lips as he watched the boy, “I hope that’ll do,” He said, gaze almost penetrative as he stared at Stiles.

Stiles shrugged and popped the top of the can, “So where are we gonna put the plants? Are you okay with them just...” He glanced back to the table and tilted his head, “I mean, they can sit pretty much anywhere, the table isn’t completely unorthodox.” And then he realized that he wasn’t really sure what Peter’s home consisted of, Stiles had never been in the man’s bedroom, though he’d been in the bathroom a few times.

“The kitchen gets a fair amount of light, but then again, so does my bedroom,” Peter’s smirk deepened and he shrugged, “Could put them in there in front of the french doors.”

The thought of actually getting Stiles into his bedroom pleased him more than it should have, especially because it was only to relocate the plants, but he couldn’t help wanting to compare how pale the boy would look in contrast to his dark burgundy bedspread.

“You’re okay with plants in your room?” Stiles asked, chill bumps rising on his skin at the look on Peter’s face, “I don’t even know what they **are** , honestly, I just know they’re not poisonous.” He remembered Derek specifically telling him that much.

Stiles moved to the plants to pick the large container back up, “Lead the way, doc.”

Peter snorted softly and looked Stiles over once more before leading the boy down the hallway to his master bedroom, pushing the door open and leaning to the side to let the younger man go in first. His bedroom was really the only room in his entire house he took pride in, especially considering he spent more time in there than anywhere else.

Stiles swallowed as he walked passed Peter, looking around the room as quickly and surreptitiously as he could. He raised his brows at the bed but tried to remain otherwise unperturbed as he moved to the doors and set the plants down a bit out of the way. He stood back up, wiping off his hands as he looked out the small windows, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he realized that he was in Peter’s _bedroom_.

Peter propped himself up against the bedroom door, hands in his pockets, hip jutted out as he looked at Stiles, admiring the way the sunlight was coming in through the doors and shining on him, “Think the lighting will be sufficient enough?” He asked, mainly just to make small talk.

Stiles looked back to Peter and nodded, “Yeah, well... I don’t know much about plants, but Derek doesn’t really have his own in a very bright place, so I think this is fine. We might wanna watch them though, in case they get like... Like burnt or something?” Stiles didn’t really know what the fuck he was talking about, honestly, the little sprouted leaves looked so cute and vulnerable, he wasn’t sure though what **too** much sun or too **little** sun would do.

“Is that your general concern for the plants or are you just trying to find an excuse to come in here more often?” Peter asked, stepping into the room slowly, but keeping distance from the younger man. He did rather enjoy the way he said ‘we’ instead of ‘you’, as if the boy was beginning to think of them as a unit.

“Well, I have to come water them too, right? So, no? It’s not really an excuse,” Stiles moved from the plants, walking back to the older man, “I can’t come over constantly, as much as I’d like to, but I don’t really see you watering them every other day, so I can’t let you starve... Whatever the fuck Derek’s growing... Weed, or whatever it is. I’ll try to come over every other day, but no promises.”

“Do you really think I’m so incompetent that I couldn’t manage to water flowers?” Peter asked incredulously, narrowing his eyebrows at Stiles.

“I said I didn’t have a green thumb, that doesn’t mean I’m lazy. I’m perfectly capable, but if you feel the need to come over just to make sure I haven’t let them dwindle away to nothing... Then be my guest.”

Stiles didn’t comment that every time he came over, it was pretty much his money for lunch going into his gas tank instead, he just smiled slightly and said, “If I get the free time, I’ll see what I can do,” He walked passed the older man, back out into the hall, moving to where he’d set his coke, “Your place is kinda out of the way of like... Everything else I do. So chances are if I’m not doing anything... It’s not really out of the way then.”

Peter followed slowly and gave himself a chance to enjoy the view ahead of him, “I suppose, but when exactly are you ever not doing something?”Stiles was essentially the group’s pack mule, Derek had him run errands, do research - as if handling college alone wasn’t enough to swamp the kid.

“Pretty much never,” Stiles admitted, “I have like ten things I need to do right now, and an hour ago, and an hour before that, but,” He took a sip of coke and smiled wide, “I manage to exceed expectations regardless, so who cares?” Definitely not Derek, definitely not his dad, as long as he got it done - and the three hours of sleep a day normally helped, “The state of my room pretty much reflects that.”

“Certainly not I,” Peter said and brushed by the boy, touching his arm briefly in the process. If Stiles was making the time to stop by - whether it be out of his way for an errand, or just to stop by regarding the books - he wasn’t going to complain.

Stiles chugged the coke and set it on the counter, he would’ve thrown it away but he wasn’t really sure if Peter was the recycling kind, “I should get going,” He said as he patted his pockets and pulled out his keys, turning to take up the book he’d pulled from the shelf.

Like he’d said before, he wouldn’t go home, he’d likely stop by some kind of library and do his work there, somewhere between Peter’s house and his own, the last thing he needed to do was waste more gas by going to some place more specific, “I’ll probably be back in a couple days.”

“I don’t really think there’s any ‘probably’ to it, we both know you’ll be back,” Peter grinned and took the boy’s can, “Won’t you?” He asked, searching the younger man’s face. If not for the books, then he’d return for Peter, that much he was confident of, it was all just a matter of time.

“Maybe,” Stiles said, grinning as he moved to put his shoes on.

He left then, and though his excitement from earlier had dwindled down somewhat, thinking back over Peter’s hands on his wrists was already making him kinda hard.

He climbed into the jeep and looked at the bruises of the older man’s fingers, nearly whimpering because it was horrible that he wanted the rest of his body to match, “I have problems,” He murmured as he pulled out of the driveway.


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles sat on the floor of Peter’s bedroom, checking over the leaves and watering each plant carefully, “I think he’s taking these guys like... Next week or something?” He said mindlessly, tongue between his teeth as he finished and separated each plant by another inch, “Also, you didn’t really tell me that reading some of those books was going to be like reading porn. The fourth on the shelf is like... More graphic than anything I think I’ve ever read, and that includes fanfiction.”

“I figured it’d take away some of the excitement if I told you what you were in for,” Peter said from where he sat on the edge of his bed, watching Stiles meticulously, “I trust you enjoyed it, though, yes? A young man like you with raging hormones, you must have.” Though age didn’t have much to do with it, he still enjoyed reading them from time to time, himself.

“I think the best part is knowing that they really happened,” Stiles admitted shamelessly, “Fanfiction can only really go so far, when you know the characters don’t exist and it’s all just fantasy. I don’t know, I was in shock the first time reading it over, pretty sure I dropped the journal at one point.”

He looked back at Peter, “But the second and third, and forth time around, it kinda made me realize that my... Whatever mine are, there are people that can still make me feel **really** vanilla.”

Peter narrowed his brows slightly and smirked knowingly at the younger man, “I have a feeling you’re anything _but_ vanilla, Stiles, it’s just a matter of embracing yourself and the things that arouse you.”

He’d seen how the boy’s pupils dilated any time he’d gotten particularly controlling, and could smell the arousal even days after Stiles had left. “You didn’t **really** answer me,” The werewolf pointed out, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, “Did you like it?”

“I said I reread the scenes like four times, that isn’t confirmation enough?” Stiles asked, staring back at Peter then, “It was probably **more** than four times, I don’t know, I could probably recite-” He stopped when his ass buzzed and he reached back to pull up his cell, frowning as he read the text from Derek.

“I guess that’s my cue,” He said as he texted the alpha back, “Derek needs some things for the greenhouse. I don’t have free days, I just have days where other people are glad they can finally tell me to do shit. Yes sir, thank you sir,” He stood up stiffly, “Should I bend over the table and take it without prep, like you like it, sir?”

He glanced at the plants for a moment before rolling his shoulders and popping the bones, “I probably won’t be able to make it back over the day after tomorrow, I’ve gotta cram three months of study into the next two days.”

Peter’s eyes widened somewhat and he had to bite on his tongue to keep from answering what he supposed was a rhetorical question. The imagery would likely haunt him, though, until he could actually see the scene played out before him.

“I could go with you,” The werewolf offered, standing as well and crossing his arms, “I’m not sure what he’s sending you after, but I’d sleep better tonight knowing you didn’t throw your back out carrying everything by yourself.”

Stiles would’ve **normally** said ‘no’ to Peter, but the chance to see the man outside of his element for once was too great an offer to pass up, “Uh sure,” that was the sound of a **lot** of gas going to waste, “Yeah, totally. We’re taking the jeep though, there’s no way it’d all fit in your car, and I’m driving, so as long as you’re cool with that, we’re good.”

Stiles frowned as his cell went off again and he pulled it up, texting Derek as he walked out of the bedroom, down the hall and to the front door to put his shoes on.

Taking a trip by his loft, to get money for the supplies was a waste of even **more** gas, so Stiles sent him back a text, saying he could just pay him back whenever he dropped the things off. The sound of spending three hundred dollars on fertilizer, pots, and various other things wasn’t one he liked in the slightest, but it’d save him money in the end.

“I’m fine with that,” Peter agreed and followed Stiles, grabbing his jacket from the coat hanger next to his front door. He slid the garment on and picked his keys up from the table, along with his phone, and pocketed everything before raising his brows at the younger man, “Alright, let’s go.”

“Second,” Stiles muttered as he finished the text and put his shoes on, walking out of the house and moving to the jeep.

He climbed in, reaching across to unlock the passenger’s side door and put on his seatbelt as he started it up. He couldn’t really think of a time that Peter had ever actually **been** inside of his jeep, so watching the man climb in and settle was a **little** unreal as he backed out of the driveway and started toward the nearest superstore.

Peter looked around the inside of the vehicle at first, kind of overwhelmed by the scent of what he presumed to be Stiles’s release, considering it smelled similar to the boy’s arousal.

He fastened his seat belt and turned to side-glance the younger man incredulously, “How in the world does Scott manage to endure riding around with you all of the time?”

Stiles frowned at the comment and turned to look at Peter for a moment as he pulled up to a red light, only **somewhat** offended by it, considering he didn’t understand where it had stemmed from, “What? Does it smell or something?”

“Or _something_ ,” Peter replied, slowly grinning at the younger man as he envisioned him sitting where he was, touching himself without abandon, “He must truly be a good friend.” He’d have to be, in order not to call Stiles out on how much his vehicle reeked of come.

Stiles blinked as he observed the wolfish look on Peter’s face and his cheeks flushed. Derek had commented on it the first time he sat in the jeep, and Scott had as well, but the idea of Peter, **Peter** , someone he’d been thinking about _while_ doing it, smelling him... Stiles wished he’d thought the taking the jeep thing through now.

“Well... Scott’s really kinda use to _all_ of me. He’s use to me getting boners constantly, or jacking off in the school bathrooms, I’m sure he hears that all the time, the jeep is just... Really it’s just another place-everyone jacks off in their vehicle, don’t test me on this, I know things.”

Peter kept his eyes fixed on the younger man and grinned wider before chuckling, putting his palms up to show Stiles he meant no harm, “Alright, I’ll just... **ignore** it.” Though the likelihood of that actually happening was improbable - it was heady, thick in the air and it damn near made his mouth water.

“They probably don’t do it as **often** as I do, but they definitely do it,” Stiles said, almost as if to comfort himself and he kept his eyes on the road then, trying not to feel **too** exposed, even though the older man was probably drowning in the smell of him jacking off.

“You think _this_ is bad,” And now he was talking without even giving himself permission, “My room is like **way** worse.”

Peter’s mouth popped open and he leaned on the armrest nearest Stiles, staring at him almost hungrily, “I guess I’ll never know, now will I?” It was becoming blatantly obvious that the younger man didn’t really have a working brain to mouth filter, but that was something he sort of liked about the boy.

“I don’t know, that’s your choice, I guess,” Stiles shrugged as he parked in front of the Walmart, “Derek never actually said anything about my room, but I wasn’t in there when he first came in. Scott though, that was actually hilarious,” He stopped and turned to look at Peter, “I’m gonna stop talking about how my room smells like I have sex with a clone as often as possible, we’re picking up fertilizer, not condoms.”

“It’s probably a good idea,” Peter admitted, undoing his seat belt and climbing out of the jeep, “It’s highly unlikely you’d get me off of the topic if you really indulged me.” The younger man seemed to be kind of shy regarding anything sexual, sort of the opposite of his own shameless outlook on the subject.

Stiles reached across to lock Peter’s door, quickly followed by his own and he climbed out, walking around to the front and joining Peter as they walked to the back of the store, “I don’t know, that makes a lot of sense. You **would** be the kinda person that goes on and on about it. I don’t, I mean... I could. I can pretty much take anything any way, probably the wrong way first. We’re not talking about this in a **Walmart** of all places, that’s the worst.”

“By talking about ‘this’ are you referring to how you masturbate in your vehicle?” Peter asked shamelessly, grinning slyly at a couple walking passed them, “And judging by how strong the scent is, you must do it frequently, too. Why? Do you get so worked up you can’t make it home before touching yourself?”

Stiles moved and covered Peter’s mouth to stop him from talking, staring at the man with wide eyes as he looked around, “Do you seriously have to announce that to **everyone** in this store?” He asked frantically, heart racing as he realized his hand was on Peter’s lips and he stilled as he met the older man’s eyes.

Peter opened his mouth and nipped at Stiles’s fingers with his teeth before he could pull away, completely ignoring the younger man’s question.

“What gets you so worked up, Stiles?” He asked curiously, stepping closer, “Is part of the excitement of touching yourself in the jeep knowing that someone could essentially catch you, walk right up and see you with those long fingers wrapped around your cock?”

Stiles felt his cheeks heat, wiping his hand off as he tried to back away, looking around for a moment and turning to walk through the side doors, settling for getting the fertilizer last, “Oh my God, can you at least **act** like you’re in a public area?” He tried to ignore Peter, as much as the words were turning him on, it wasn’t really appropriate to be seeking the attention he was getting in the middle of a place **packed** with people.

“And how exactly should I act?” Peter asked, eyes skimming over the younger man’s flushed cheeks, “Should I act like you and grab myself, maybe give everyone a show? I’m not going to tone down who I am just to make you comfortable, especially when all I’m doing is talking.”

“If I can act normal in a public place, you should be able to do the same,” Stiles moved to the shelf of gardening supplies, looking over things as he pulled his cell out to look at Derek’s list again, “And no, I don’t-it’s... I don’t really-I’m not **completely** normal all the time, but I try. And I don’t just get off in the jeep because of the hype to do something and think of getting caught... It’s...” He lowered his voice, “It’s because I get worked up, yeah.”

Peter looked towards both ends of the aisle before moving closer, crowding Stiles’s space and speaking in a hushed whisper just next to his ear, “ _And what gets you worked up, hmm?_ ” He asked, breath ghosting over the younger man’s skin, “ _You never did answer me... And I want to know. What exactly arouses you so much that you can’t refrain from touching yourself in the jeep?_ ”

Stiles felt his skin crawl and his eyes widened as he looked back at Peter, “I-nothing, I... I mean, obviously something... It’s... It’s a lot of things, okay? I mean, some more than others, but it just-it happens, that’s it. I don’t exactly write them all down, what, do you want me to list them off?” Like he would.

“Mm, maybe not, trying to figure you out is half the fun,” Peter said heatedly and brushed his fingers over the nape of Stiles's neck, resisting the urge to lean in just an inch to taste his skin.

“What else do you do? Is it strictly jacking off or have you explored other parts of your body as well?” The werewolf barely touched the tip of his nose to Stiles’s neck and scented him, inhaling the arousal as much as he could.

“Uh... Like... Like what do you mean?” Stiles’s cock throbbed the moment he realized that Peter was breathing him in, scenting him, and Stiles was probably embarrassingly pungent.

He looked around furiously, making sure no one was watching them, “I don’t understand, you mean like-”

“Fingering yourself,” Peter interrupted bluntly, placing a gentle hand on the younger man’s hip, “Your fingers are perfect for it, long and thin. I can’t imagine you not utilizing them.” He smoothed his thumb over the cotton of the younger man’s t-shirt and grinned, because for someone who was so squeamish over talking about sex in public, he sure as hell smelled like he was enjoying it.

Stiles looked at the hand on his waist and then to his own, flexing them in front of himself as he considered what Peter was saying. Should he **tell** Peter that he had? Probably not, that would just make this worse, but saying nothing wasn’t really an option, and the werewolf would know if he was lying.

“Yes,” He said simply, not bothering to elaborate as he tucked his cell in his pocket, took a few things from the shelf, and grabbed an abandoned cart nearby, adopting it up and clearing the stuff that had been in it before.

Peter snorted softly as Stiles moved away from him, still grinning and he nodded as he pocketed his hands, again, “Good to know,” He said, not bothering to advance on the younger man again. Whereas he could keep his arousal under control, it was painfully obvious that Stiles couldn’t.

Stiles felt slightly harassed in a way. Not that it was a bad feeling, what he was going through, but he seriously wanted to jack off. All he could think about after that was sex, sex and sex with Peter, and sex in Peter’s bed, and sex in front of those french doors, sex on his couch or in the jeep, or sex in his beta form with his claws, or sex where he was telling him to **do** things. That was where his mind just shut off and his dick ran the show.

That led to thinking of Peter taking control, and forcing him to do things, and saying ‘good boy’ when he did something right, and fucking his mouth, or shoving his dick down his throat until the slightly swollen knot passed his teeth and he was gagging and tears were streaming down his face and Peter was smiling down at him with that wolfish look, brushing his cheek-

“You’re the worst person in the world,” He told the older man who was standing by him as he grabbed things from the list.

“Is that so?” Peter asked, amused, brows raising as he glanced down to the younger man’s groin and the likely painful erection pressing against the denim, “Perhaps you should go take care of that, I’m not sure you’re thinking clearly.”

He licked his lips, “Though, I would _love_ to know what’s going on in that mind of yours. Penny for your thoughts?”

“Really, really horribly specific things,” Stiles all but whimpered as he clenched his jaw, imagining how it’d feel to let Peter have that control, just hold the back of his head and fuck into his mouth without a care for what it was doing to Stiles, whispering down to him how he was such a good boy and only pulling back just before Stiles was lost completely, “Oh my God, I’m like fifty times more fucked up than I thought I was.”

But he liked the idea of being completely vulnerable, used for everything Peter _wanted_ to use him for. The thought of letting someone **else** have the control was freeing, even more was the thought of being cherished, being taken care of, and told what to do.

Stiles was suddenly aware that if he even **tried** to touch himself, he’d probably jizz in his pants and this was likely the most turned on he’d been since Peter had taken up his wrists.

“If your thoughts is what has you this flustered - and I feel it’s vital to point out that being aroused isn’t a bad thing - then I don’t see how it could possibly mean you’re fucked up,” Peter said, watching the younger man’s face carefully, “Your outlook on things saddens me. It’s tragic, really, how inhibited you are.”

Stiles glanced at Peter then, “Yeah, well, this is coming from you, Peter, you of all people, are trying to tell me that my... Freaky kinks are normal, and not only that, but you don’t even know what they are.”

He smiled weakly, “No offense, I mean, I know you’re not **completely** corrupt, but you’re doing very little to comfort me. I never told anyone why my last relationship ended, for a **reason** , and it was a good one.”

“I can’t very well comfort you if you don’t confide in me, Stiles,” Peter glanced into the cart and raised a brow, “What else did my nephew need you to pick up? Is this all or is there more?” As much as he wanted to know why the younger man’s last relationship failed, he also didn’t want to press too hard to only have Stiles recoil from him completely.

“Well, the fertilizer, that’s the-one sec,” Stiles looked at his cell and checked off each thing mentally, “Yeah, just that.” He turned back to the side exit, not saying anything further on the subject. He hadn’t needed to ‘confide’ in anyone yet, why start?


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles parked the jeep and looked across the seats at Peter, “So... I kinda like going shopping with you,” He admitted, raising his brows innocently.

“I mean, you’re an ass, and I’m pretty sure you got me hard from the start on purpose, because you’re sadistic, and kinda a dick, and I don’t have a lot of free time these days, but you’re not a half bad shopping partner. And I think you need a bit more sun, you’re starting to look more like a [Vampire](http://archiveofourown.org/works/893969/chapters/1725873) than a werewolf. You think you’d wanna do it again?”

Peter looked down at his forearms and then back up at Stiles, staring at him incredulously, “I’ll have you know I look just fine,” He said, unable to stop from smiling, “Of course I’d want to do it again. Any more adjectives you'd like to throw my way while you're at it?”

“Not really,” Stiles said as he all but winced as his stomach growled, he glanced at his watch and narrowed his brows, looking around the street as he realized that it actually **was** ten, and his watch wasn’t just broken.

“That’s the last time I pick up gardening supplies for Derek,” He was fucking starving, and seriously horny, which only meant two things, getting off and going to sleep early, “Uh, so since I’ve got that study cramming thing, the next time I’ll be over will probably be to pick up the plants for Derek, and I’ll return your porn book back to you.”

The werewolf watched Stiles for a moment, gaze turning almost calculative, “I want you to keep it,” He said, smile softening, “Because that way, next time you come back, it’ll be because you want to and not because you’re returning a book. I’d like to think I’m not **just** your very own personal library.”

“Your collection is far too small to be **my** personal library, they’re good, one-of-a-kind books and all that, but my mind would never be sated,” Stiles responded without missing a beat, “Besides, I don’t waste my gas for books and to water plants that you could very well do on your own, as you’ve said before.”

“Good looking **and** extraordinarily sassy,” Peter grabbed the door handle and let his hand linger there, “A boy after my own heart... So if it’s not for the books or to check up on my nephew’s plants, then why exactly do you go out of your way to come and see me? I feel as if I should compensate you, seeing as you feel the gas has been a waste.”

“Using gas to go anywhere that isn’t completely necessary **is** technically a waste, my dad would murder me if he knew, which is why he doesn’t,” Stiles shrugged, “He’d probably also ask me what I’m doing at a man’s house that’s like twice my age, but that doesn’t stop me either. I think you’re wise enough to figure it out on your own. I’ll give you a hint though, it has something to do with what happens in my jeep.”

Peter nodded slowly and smirked, inhaling nice and deep as his eyes flashed at the younger man, “You really shouldn’t have told me that. If you thought I was insufferable before, you have no clue what knowing that will drive me to do.” It was essentially all the confirmation he’d been needing, as if the pungent aroma of the boy’s arousal wasn’t enough to go by in the first place.

“You just spent our first shopping experience whispering things and asking me inappropriate questions which resulted in me thinking of the most fucked up things while surrounded by families and children, I owed you one,” Stiles said, winking and watching Peter as he imagined how everything must smell around him, not just from getting off constantly in the jeep, but also from being horribly aroused for the better part of the day.

Peter reached across the seats suddenly and fisted a handful of Stiles’s shirt, pulling him to meet in the middle as he slotted their lips together, eyes closing as he felt the warm press of the younger man’s lips.

Somewhat sated, the werewolf pulled back slowly, eyes perpetually glowing bright blue, “Go home, Stiles,” He said fondly, kissing the boy once more before opening his door, “I’ll see you next time.”

Stiles felt his insides burn and ache as Peter kissed him, and he leaned into it the best he could, kind of stunned that it’d even happened. He sat dumbly in the driver’s side seat, staring at Peter and blinking slowly as the older man left, and he was hard again, vigor restored, and he was probably going to get off the moment he was away from Peter’s house, and then like ten times once he got home.

“Yeah, see you next time,” He muttered.

* * *

It was just a stupid kiss, and still Stiles couldn’t get it out of his head, every time he thought about the facial hair scratching his skin, or Peter pulling him over, it was like it led to fifty other things, and Stiles’s cramming session consisted of a **lot** of furious masturbation, and Stiles couldn’t name another time in his life where he’d gotten off so many times within the course of a week - even **Scott** complained when he came over to hang out in what very, **very** little spare time either of them had these days.

Even on the drive over to Peter’s house to pick up the goddamn plants led to him pulling over. He came to the conclusion that he was just a complete wreck, and trying **not** to reek of sex when going to visit the older man was pretty much impossible.

Stiles knocked, trying not to act ashamed because he hadn’t seen Peter in over a week, and go figure the day he came back he had to get off in the jeep.

Peter opened the door and leaned against the frame as he let his eyes rake over the younger man shamelessly, “I presume you’re not here strictly for pleasure,” He smiled and scented the air a little, “Let me guess, you’re here for those atrocious green things growing in my room?” The younger man reeked of release, almost like he’d just gotten off, and knowing Stiles, he probably had.

“Unfortunately, no, this isn’t a booty call,” Stiles walked passed Peter, smirking to himself, “Not that that doesn’t sound a **lot** better than what I **actually** have to do today.” He knew he was being a bit obvious, and kind of flirty, he didn’t particularly mind now that he knew Peter was **actually** interested in him.

“Pity,” Peter sighed wistfully and closed the door before following Stiles, “What exactly do you have to do today?”

Instinctively, he wanted to move up behind the younger man, wrap his arms around his slender waist and kiss his neck, but he held himself back. He’d technically made the first move, and although it was clear that they were both interested, the ball was now officially in Stiles’s court.

“You make me sound like an errand boy,” Stiles sighed as he walked into Peter’s room and bent down to put all of the plants in their case, “Woah, these are actually getting kinda big. They’re like twice the size of Derek’s... Anyways, you make me sound like an errand boy, which.... Is kinda exactly what I am, considering I’ve gotta go to like fifteen places once I’ve dropped these guys off. So, you know, you’re free to come along, if you’re bored out of your skull.”

“I could be coerced into tagging along,” Peter pursed his lips and smirked at how the younger man’s pants pulled tight against his ass when he bent down, “I refuse to get out of the vehicle at Derek’s and make small talk, though.”

“That’s fine, I'm not really in the mood for it, either,” Stiles said as he lifted the box and turned to look at Peter.

“I don’t have the time to deal with him right now, anyways,” He moved passed the older man, practically sandwiching him in the doorway, his lower backside digging against the front of Peter’s pants as he passed, “That’s what you get for staring at my ass.”

“If you plan on making it to your destination, Stiles, I wouldn’t tease me,” Peter had to reach down and readjust himself. Normally he and control were one in the same, and he could prevent himself from getting hard, but Stiles gliding passed him the way he had had been unexpected.

“And I could’ve been admiring your shoes for all you know,” The werewolf smiled and followed after the younger man, “I can appreciate a nice pair of converses.”

Stiles laughed obnoxiously and glanced back at Peter, “Yeah, no, I have a nice ass, I **know** you weren’t looking at anything else.”

Peter watched after Stiles in awe, sort of taken aback because he’d never really heard the younger man laugh like that. It was infectious and, oddly enough, it kind of made his stomach flip and his chest feel tight.

Stiles reached out with one hand, opening the door and walking outside to put the plants in the back of the jeep, “If you’re tagging along, you **do** realize you’ve pretty much just lost the rest of the day, right? Because people don’t really like giving me time to breathe on my days off.”

“You make spending it with you sound like such a chore,” Peter said from the door, speaking loud enough for Stiles to hear him as he grabbed his coat and keys, locking the door behind himself, “I can assure you, it won’t exactly be a hardship for me.”

“It’s definitely a chore for me,” Stiles closed the back of the jeep and walked around, climbing into the driver’s side, “I’m getting a bit tired of feeling like everyone’s... Slinky,” He sighed as he watched Peter settle in beside him, “I know I’m the most entertaining thing in the world, but it’s not really nice to see how many steps I can bounce down before breaking stride.”

“Perhaps you just need a distraction,” Peter buckled in and glanced at Stiles, “All work and no play makes Stiles a dull boy. You need to find your voice and tell that nephew of mine you want a break, you need time for yourself.”

“No kidding,” Stiles agreed as he started up the jeep and pulled from the driveway.

“I didn’t take highschool really serious, but I actually **do** kinda take college... Eh, about as serious as I should, considering it _might_ become a career or something - and I barely scraped by this passed week, because I didn’t have time to cover everything. Then again, it **was** like everything I’ve learned so far and I only had two days to soak it all in. I don’t know, maybe that’s my problem. Maybe that’s like every fucking problem I have right now.”

He shrugged as he pursed his lips, “I have too big of an affinity for instruction. With Scott and Allison, and Lydia, and Derek, it’s pretty much habit to ask them if they want me to do something.”

“Then stop,” Peter said, shifting in his seat slightly to fully look at Stiles, “Stop offering to help others when you can barely help yourself. Get yourself in order first, make sure you get caught up on homework or whatever it is you do, take some time for yourself afterwards and then... If you still want to help the others out, then go for it. But put yourself first, Stiles.”

Stiles wasn’t sure if Peter was **telling** him what to do or suggesting it, so he looked back at the older man as he pulled up to a red light and asked, “I’m confused, are you saying that’s what I should do... Or are you telling me to do it?” He wasn’t even sure if he’d listen either way, he couldn’t just **stop** doing something he’d been doing for years now.

Peter glanced at the red light and exhaled before leaning across the gap between the seats, “I’m telling you to,” He reached up to touch the younger man’s cheek and pressed a small, chaste kiss to his lips before pulling back.

“You don’t necessarily have to be rude about it. If they’re as good of friends to you as I hope they are, then they’ll understand. You can start with Derek, when we drop the plants off, I want you to tell him you’re not available for the next week.”

Stiles frowned as he pulled his foot off of the gas and, while he was nervous about actually **doing** it, and he wasn’t sure if he _would_ , it was already kind of exciting him in the strangest ways, “Uhm, I’ll try, but I can’t really say I’ll actually **do** it,” He hated admitting it, even though it was honest. He remembered what had happened the **last** time Peter had demanded something of him and he didn’t listen, and yeah, the marks were nice, but they still had hurt.

“What do I get in return, if I tell the alpha that I’m not available as his pet boomerang for the next week?”

“Orgasms at the hand of someone else for a change,” Peter offered, expression still serious as he looked at Stiles, “Do you think that’s incentive enough, or would you prefer I give you the details of exactly how I plan on getting you off?” The younger man was stubborn and that alone made the entire situation a little more difficult, but he knew that Stiles would give in and heed his demands.

Stiles’s mouth dropped open and he looked at Peter for a moment, kind of stunned by what the older man had said, but he nodded, “No, yeah, yeah that’s incentive enough,” Not that he didn’t think he would’ve gotten them regardless, eventually.

He looked back to the road and put both hands on the steering wheel for once, feeling like if he didn’t, he’d just start doing all kinds of horrendous things.

“Good,” Peter said, smiling faintly, “Don’t let my nephew intimidate you, and if he asks why, tell him the truth. You need more time to yourself and you’re swamped. I doubt he’d hassle you about it too much.”

“Right,” Stiles doubted it, but he’d try. He’d just... Never told Derek ‘no’, for like... Anything, even when he’d kind of hated the guy in the beginning, he still had ended up folding - albeit unwillingly.

He stayed quiet until he was parked outside of the loft, trying to think of how he’d **possibly** refuse Derek without weaseling out of it. Stiles climbed from the jeep and moved to the back, pulling the plants up and walking around to the door once more, “I’ll uh... Be right back,” He said, raising his brows and turning as he walked to the elevator at the front of the building.

He stood idly until the doors opened and he walked in, tapping the third floor button with his hip and waiting until the doors opened once more. He moved to Derek’s room, offering the plants to the alpha already standing in wait.

Derek took them and nodded at them approvingly before stalking off to the other room to sit them down, “I need you to run in to Home Depot for me real quick and pick up one of the new irrigation systems they just got in, I think it’d work good in the greenhouse. I’ll give you the money for it and you can just meet me there.” He turned and moved back towards Stiles, left brow raised expectantly.

Stiles felt like he was stuck in one of those awkward positions where you walked into something you **knew** was gonna be bad, but did it anyways, “Uh... I...” He swallowed as his heart raced, “Can’t,” He said, feeling like the words were fighting their way out of him.

“I have like... A ton of shit to do today, I seriously can’t make space for it,” And then it was like vomit was coming out of his mouth and he couldn’t stop talking, “Actually, I really don’t have any time at all, like within the next week or so, I’m pretty busy and college is kicking my ass, so I kinda need to focus on that. Sorry?” The last of it started to warp into an apology and he stared at Derek with wide eyes, fearing the worst.

Derek practically gaped at Stiles when he said that he couldn’t, sort of taken aback by the fact that the younger man was actually telling him 'no'. The alpha crossed his arms and narrowed his eyebrows at Stiles, no doubt coming off as threatening. In all honesty, he’d expected Stiles to stand up and tell him to shove it a long time ago, but he never had.

“Fine,” He drawled out slowly and pulled his phone out of his pocket, “I’ll get Isaac or Scott to do it, go... **Study** or whatever it is you need to do.”

Stiles swallowed, feeling seriously guilty as he turned and walked away. His fucking **hands** were shaking, and he didn’t look back as he walked into the elevator and pushed the ‘Floor’ button.

He didn’t even stop until he was back in the jeep and he put his forehead on the steering wheel as he tried to collect himself. He actually kind of felt like he was going to cry or something, his arms ached, and yeah... Yeah, he was having a fucking panic attack.

Stiles clenched his jaw and stayed quiet as he tried to breathe, pulling out of park and nearly speeding from Derek’s loft as fast as possible.

Peter had listened to their conversation and he’d been impressed with both Stiles’s ability to actually get the words out and the cool his nephew kept, but the way the younger man had been shaking when he got back in the vehicle was slightly worrying.

“It’s extremely difficult for you to tell someone ‘no’... Isn’t it?” He asked, frowning as he watched the younger man.

Stiles finally managed to calm himself down long enough to look at Peter, he was sure his face was red, and his heart was still racing, but he was calm enough to talk again, “Not just ‘someone’. But people that depend on me? Yeah. That’s why I **don’t**. It’s probably more than that, I’m sure there’s more to it, but I really don’t wanna sit back and try to figure out what the Hell is wrong with me because I **know** there’s a lot. I’ve never said ‘no’ to Derek, not even when I wanted to. He’s pissed at me, I can tell, I just fucking knifed him in the back.”

“You’re more than just a pack mule, Stiles,” Peter said sternly, “I heard what he said to you, I don’t think he’s pissed, and even if he is, he’ll get over it. A pack doesn’t solely depend on one person and neglect that person’s needs, because it’s not right and that’s sure as Hell not how pack dynamics work. Derek is a big boy, he’ll make do without you for a week.”

Stiles pressed his lips together and shook his head, “I don’t like it. I don’t like lying to him, I feel like I’m lying, I feel like I need to just go back and apologize and take the money and get his thing. I feel like shit.” Miserable was more the term, he felt like a bad person. Derek didn’t really have anyone to count on and Stiles had always been there for the guy, “I think I’m having another panic attack.”

“Pull over,” Peter said, somewhat thankful that the road they were on was bare for the most part. If Stiles wouldn’t listen to him, then perhaps some sort of physical persuasion would open his eyes. That, and if the younger man was having a panic attack, they didn’t need to be on the road anyway.

Stiles pulled over a bit roughly, nearly giving them whiplash and he put the jeep in park, closing his eyes tightly as he shook. He didn’t understand, he hadn’t had panic attacks since his mom had passed away - and that kind of warranted a reason - was it **actually** this difficult to say fucking ‘no’ to someone? He just kept thinking about how useless he felt, and that look on Derek’s face, and it was pretty much the stupidest thing he could think of.

“Come here,” Peter murmured, patting his lap and leaning over a little to rest his hand on the boy’s forearm, “Come on,” He urged again.

Stiles stopped, looking at Peter in confusion and then he glanced around, suddenly unsure, “Uh,” He moved carefully, hesitantly climbing to the older man’s side as he tried to breathe and settled in Peter’s lap, still kind of confused.

Peter reached up to cup the younger man’s face in his hands, staring at him intently, “Listen to me, you’re not lying to him, okay?”

He smoothed his thumbs over the younger man’s skin, “You’re turning this into more than it really is, it’ll be okay. You haven’t gone off and dishonored anyone, or stabbed anyone in the back just because you need time to yourself. Don’t worry about it.”

Stiles stared back and nodded, he **knew** he was making it out to be a lot more than it was, but hearing it come from Peter really made him feel kind of childish for overreacting, “I know, I’m being ridiculous.”

“You’re not,” Peter shook his head, offering a small smile, “Just calm down, and in time, you’ll see that telling people ‘no’ every once in a while isn’t really such a bad thing.” Whatever this was they had going on between them was fairly new, but he still didn’t like seeing the younger man so upset, so on edge. Naturally, he wanted to do what he could to placate him.

Stiles nodded again, eyes searching Peter’s as he relaxed finally and his breathing returned to normal. His head was hurting though, from all of the freaking out, and he really just wanted to sleep, but he stared into Peter’s eyes and reached up to touch his wrist, “Thanks, I still feel like a moron, but thanks.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Peter shrugged and tentatively pulled Stiles into a kiss, letting his lips linger a little longer than he had before, mouth parting as one hand dropped to touch the younger man’s hip.

Stiles kissed back just as carefully, reaching up to touch Peter’s jaw and it felt like he was melting into the werewolf, easing down as everything inside of him lifted and he wanted to push in more, to ravish Peter, to have the older man just take him in the fucking jeep without even thinking about it... But he pushed back, hands on the older man’s chest as he painfully broke the kiss and breathed.

Peter smiled and brushed his thumb over Stiles’s bottom lip before tapping his thigh gently, “Lets get going before someone passes us by and thinks we’re doing something we’re not.” He wanted to deepen the kiss, to take more, but he also wanted to respect Stiles’s boundaries... _Somewhat_.

Stiles climbed back over to his side just as carefully as he had when he’d joined Peter. He was more eased now, but he still kind of felt a bit guilty. Saying ‘no’ was hard.

Stiles’s lips felt warm where Peter’s had been and he knew it was a slow growing process between them, but he’d told Peter before, he didn’t really like waiting for things to happen, he was more of an ‘at your own pace’ kind of guy.

He pulled his cell from his pocket and sent out a text to Scott, Lydia, and Allison before he pursed his lips, “Are you hungry?” He asked as his thumbs dabbed at his screen.

“Famished, actually,” Peter rubbed his palm over his stomach before readjusting his seat, “Why, did you want to go out to eat?” It wasn’t really a bad idea, considering they hadn’t really seen much of one another outside of pack meets, errands and Peter’s home. The prospect of actually spending time with the younger man and just being able to enjoy his company was pleasing.

“Not really _out_ to eat, I don’t have the patience for that,” Stiles shrugged as he made his order and put his cell back in his pocket, “It’s like 20 minutes to my house, how does pizza sound?” He smiled as he pulled out of park, stopping to put his seat belt on once again before continuing on like he had before his meltdown.


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles unlocked the front door and glanced back at Peter, somewhat thankful that his dad wasn’t home yet, and probably wouldn’t be for a good while. He pushed the door open and walked in, holding it open for the older man as he looked around quickly, trying to remember the state he’d left his room in that morning, “Are you thirsty?”

Peter stalked into the younger man’s home slowly, glancing around idly and trying to get a feel for the place, hands in his pockets. He turned to look at Stiles and shook his head, “I’m fine, but thank you,” He said, offering a small smile.

“Uh, no problem,” Stiles closed the door behind Peter and watched him carefully, he felt like he had a tiger loose in his house, as if Peter would actually turn around and start ripping through things, or hide the remote to the tv, “The pizza should be here any moment, after that we can go up to my room, I doubt you wanna be down here when my dad gets back, he might draw his gun on you.”

“You certainly know how to keep company at ease,” Peter said dryly, giving Stiles a pointed look before letting his gaze fall down over the boy’s body. He didn’t snark the way he wanted to, didn’t say ‘Well if you wanted to get me into bed, Stiles, all you had to do was say so’, he kept his mouth shut instead, and thought better of it.

“It’s an acquired talent, honed through knowing my dad better than anyone else,” Stiles shrugged and took a seat at the table, offering Peter the one by him as he kicked it out a bit, “Although he’s more liable to aim at me first, because he doesn’t really know you.”

Peter glanced at the seat, looking back up to meet Stiles’s eyes then as he sat down and rested his forearm on the table, “I’m sure all it would take to get him to aim at me is mentioning my last name.”

He shrugged as well, “But what can you do?” Pausing for a moment, he narrowed his eyes at Stiles thoughtfully, “So how does it feel to know that you’re essentially free for the next week? And I don’t want to hear you go on about how you feel like you’re letting anyone down, either.”

Stiles smiled weakly and shrugged, “I don’t know, I’m trying not to panic again, honestly,” He put his thumb to his mouth, gnawing on the nail for a moment, “I don’t know what I’m gonna do, I’m gonna be so bored. Probably study and actually read up, for once. The idea of not having to cram that all in three days sounds nice. It actually does sound like... Really boring.”

He liked having people tell him to do things, just because it gave him a schedule, something to go by, a sense of importance instead of feeling so lost like he already was.

“It won’t be boring,” Peter smirked, leaning forward to pull Stiles’s hand away from his mouth, “I can assure you.” He’d do what he could to keep the younger man occupied, so long as Stiles put his school work first and got caught up. Being a distraction didn’t sound quite so bad.

Stiles swallowed, staring into Peter’s eyes as he felt his stomach flip, “I don’t know, I don’t really have much of a social life, I don’t really **do** anything else besides for study, and what people tell me to do, I’m not... I can’t really **lead** myself, I’m horrible at it, I’m like a cat. I’ll just sleep or preen myself, or eat.”

Peter smoothed his thumb over Stiles’s wrist and pulled away, “You won’t have to lead yourself, Stiles, not if you don’t want to.” There was no inflection towards the end, and even so, it still sounded more like a question, a subtle way to put things out there without pushing too hard.

“I don’t want to,” Stiles admitted at once, feeling somewhat eased by the thought of what he **hoped** Peter was implying, “I actually thought that being in control of my life was this like... **Really** good thing, but it isn’t, not for me. Ever since I’ve been able to do as I please, I just... I ask what others _want_ me to do. And when I actually **have** a social life, I fuck it up.”

Peter nodded understandingly and offered another small smile, “Stop worrying, then, and relax for once, let someone else do the worrying for you.” He glanced towards the door, “You may want to answer that, pizza’s here.”

Stiles looked up as he heard the muffled sound of a car pulling up and he stood, moving to the door and pulling the wallet from his back pocket. He paid the man and took the two large pizzas, telling him to drive safely before locking the door and walking into the kitchen.

He poured himself a drink, holding it carefully as he made his way upstairs, talking back to Peter as he led the older man, “I got one cheese, one meatlovers, that way if you like either, you can have it, or we can swap around, doesn’t matter to me, really.” He pushed open his bedroom door, looking around as subtly as possible and nodding to himself when he was pleased with the state of things, ignoring the fact that his desk was more books than wood, and he took a seat on the bed, “So, yeah... This is my room.”

Peter followed and looked around, brows only slightly raised as he took in the wall decals and posters, “Seems fitting.” Moving about the room slowly, he finally took a seat in the younger man’s computer chair before rolling himself closer to the boy.

“What’s the point in having a room if it doesn’t reflect your personality?” Stiles asked rhetorically, watching Peter now that the older man was **actually** stationed in his room.

He wasn’t really use to company in the general area as of late. Derek didn’t really come over at all, neither did Scott. He hadn’t actually **had** someone over - save his best friend - since the whole attempted sex thing. Even sitting in the room reminded him of how completely humiliated he’d been. He wasn’t sure if werewolves could **smell** humiliation, but he hoped not.

As far as he’d gathered knowledge over time, they could smell various things - sickness, arousal, discomfort even - so if he’d been with a werewolf, they probably would’ve known how wrecked he was when it had happened. The smell was likely stale by now though, covered up by the overwhelming amount of times he'd gotten off since, with Stiles trying to figure out what his problem was.

He opened the box and took a plain cheese slice out, biting into it and grinning in satisfaction at the slight burn from the heat, the salty butter and cheese, and really, pizza was about the best food on the planet.

“Yours definitely reflects you,” Peter nodded and reached to open the meat lovers pizza box, grabbing a slice and holding his other hand under it so that he didn’t make a mess, “Smells like you, too... And I thought your jeep was overwhelming.”

He took a bite of the pizza and chewed, trying not to inhale too much, because the entirety of the room smelled like the walls were practically lined in Stiles’s come, undeniable proof of how much the younger man enjoyed touching himself.

Stiles blushed and looked away, “I told you,” He **had** warned the older man about it, and even though he’d done so, he couldn’t help feeling a **little** embarrassed by the fact that the room was probably far worse than Scott had experienced. Ever since Stiles had figured out what his ‘thing’ was, he’d probably jacked off more times than he ever had in his whole life.

“All of the errands were just lies, I spend all of my time getting off,” He joked, “Or you’d probably think so. I don’t know how bad it really is, but I imagine it’s probably _bad_.”

“If you could actually smell it, I think your cheeks would turn a few more shades of red,” Peter said, smiling as he finished off his first piece of pizza, reaching for another, “I know young men like to get off a lot, but I have a feeling the levels you take it to are a little extreme, even for someone your age.”

He crossed his legs and the tip of his foot brushed along the younger man’s calf, “So what does it, what gets you so riled up?”

“That’s...” Stiles took a breath, “Actually kind of a long, embarrassing story. Well, it’s probably not that long, I **do** have cliff notes."

"This bed,” He motioned to where he was sitting, “This was pretty much where it all kinda happened, talk about like the **worst** moment of my life. Like, it trumps the whole Lydia thing. I didn’t think it got worse than that, until it happened. You remember that hunter girl, Amy, who I was kinda involved with, and then she left and I didn’t tell anyone what happened between us? That was that, that’s what I’m talking about.”

Peter was thankful that Stiles was kind of opening up more with him, and the fact alone made his chest buzz with warmth, “I do remember her, **vividly**.”

Being interested in someone, you tend to notice the people they get with, “You two were cute together,” He said almost bitterly, “What happened?” Judging by the fact that Stiles had insinuated something bad happened on his bed, he could only assume the younger man was referring to something sexual.

Stiles looked back at the bed, near the headboard, and sighed, “You know, I wouldn’t have really minded if I like... Got off too quickly,” He turned to Peter once more, “That’s not a problem, I could get it back up just as easily if I’m _that_ excited. Enough to prematurely ejaculate is normally more than enough to become hard again within the next five to ten minutes, or less... If you’re me."

"That was the **only** thing in the world that I was worried about, what else is there, right? I mean, besides for embarrassing bodily fluid things, sounds, or getting walked in on, or breaking the condom, things like that. But I have to do the one thing that not only is embarrassing to me, but it kinda insulted her. I lost my boner. Like... Completely, mid-thrust and everything - I wasn’t even **really** turned on going in, but I figured it’d just... Take a bit... Or something.”

Peter’s eyes widened slightly as Stiles continued to tell him more, “That _is_ unfortunate,” He said, shrugging flippantly, “Any idea as to why it happened?” The werewolf asked, honestly a little curious as to what the younger man would say.

The past few months Stiles had smelled like nothing but walking sex, like he’d just gotten off, so perhaps the issue wasn’t Stiles, but the person he’d been with instead.

“Oh yeah, I totally get it now, but at the time... Not so much, and... Really not the best way to lose my virginity,” Stiles sighed again and kicked his shoes off, sitting on the bed completely as he looked at Peter, “You know what it is, too, you know **exactly** what it is because it’s my whole problem in life. I don’t like being in control."

"I had her underneath me and it was like... The biggest turn off ever. I wasn’t really terrified, I just wasn’t interested. I’m not good at being in control, I’m horrible at it, like I said. I didn’t actually realize it would be an issue in sex, at all. Because I’d never really done it, and when I jack off, I’m in control there. But I think it actually just has to do with other people. You saw what happened when you made me take charge and **tell** Derek ‘no’, I didn’t handle it well at all.”

Peter finished off his piece of pizza and wiped his mouth with one of the napkins that came with the food, wadding it up in his hand as he looked at Stiles, “I think I’ve known what it is for a while now, I’ve just been waiting for you to stop playing so coy and just tell me.”

He rested his elbows on his knees and smirked at the younger man, “That being said, what exactly would you like me to do with that information, Stiles?”

Stiles swallowed as he stared back at Peter and his insides turned to mush. The guy didn’t realize that **that** was what Stiles didn’t like having to do - make decisions. He shook his head and shrugged helplessly, “Nothing, I guess,” He started, voice small and shy and he almost choked on the words as they came out, still kind of breathless, “I don’t know, it’s just whatever it is.” He turned back, taking up another slice of pizza and all but inhaling it.

Peter breathed out slowly, sighing as he sat back in the computer chair, “Shame.” He had kind of expected the younger man to say something, anything more than he had, but he really hadn’t anticipated the actual disappointment that washed over him because Stiles hadn’t.

“Pretty much,” Stiles said as he chewed slowly and licked his fingers. Shame was about the most appropriate word that came to mind when he thought about his problem, “I don’t even really know if I like my **own** kink, how fucked up is that? I mean, so far all I see are just... Down sides, tons and tons, and tons, of down sides.”

“You don’t know if you like it because you haven’t necessarily had the chance to explore it,” Peter said, eyes focused solely on the younger man, “You should indulge yourself every once in a while, it never hurts to learn more about yourself.” And he’d gladly show the younger man, guide him and lead him. All Stiles had to do was hand over the reigns.

“I don’t know about that, I considered it, in the beginning when I was just figuring it out,” Stiles shook his head as he scrunched up his face, “Trying to find someone to do that to me is just... It’s weird. And if I did, there’s no **way** Scott would miss the smell of someone else in my room, I mean, if he came over and did things, and see... That’s just weird because my **dad** lives here."

"Why can’t I just have a normal, unattainable kink like tentacle monsters? Or something less freaky, like melted candle wax or ice cubes or some shit? Why does it have to be something so specific?”

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose as he listened to the boy, because he’d been positive that he’d been hitting on Stiles blatantly enough for the younger man to see the flashing neon sign above his head spelling out ‘Pick me, pick me!’. For someone so smart, he had trouble seeing something that was right in front of him.

“Wanting to be dominated isn’t a kink to be ashamed of, Stiles,” The werewolf said, not really beating around the bush, “It’s not freaky, either. There are literally millions of people in D/s relationships all around the world.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not sure if I wanna be one of them,” Stiles sat back, taking up another slice of pizza, “I’m perfectly fine watching that kinda thing from a far. The last thing I want is for the pack to find out how it is."

"It’s weird enough I told you. But you... I don’t know. I think I actually trust you to keep this to yourself more than I’d trust anyone else. You’ve treated me with nothing but respect, even when I’m floundering and making a complete ass out of myself. This is probably best if I just keep it down."

"Any more than what I’ve already experienced of it and I won’t be able to be even remotely normal. I’ll just be one of those leather bound freaks that likes being whipped and spends most of his time in Gay Pride parades as the little sub with a ballgag stuffed in my mouth and walking around on all fours.”

Peter didn’t mention that a D/s relationship didn’t necessarily mean ball gags, leather and whips. He kept it to himself, because nothing he could really say on the matter would change the younger man’s outlook, especially if he had it in his head that liking that sort of thing was weird or corrupt. “You can certainly paint a nice picture,” The werewolf said instead, trying to keep the conversation lighthearted.

It was a pity that Stiles had been so brainwashed, wanting to conform to what society in general had deemed as normal instead of fully learning himself.

“I should’ve been born an artist, I know, I have so many talents,” Stiles joked back. He always had that sneaking fear that he’d be alone in life, when it came to relationships, but he didn’t **actually** think it was going to happen, until the whole 'Amy thing'. Now it was like he was starting to realize that he needed to get more cats, or pigeons or something, something to fill that empty space so he didn’t have to think about it.

“So, since I don’t really have anything else to do today, thank you, do you want me to drop you back off at your house?”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Peter shrugged, standing up from the younger man’s computer chair and pushing it back to where it belonged, “Thank you for the food, next time’s on me.” He wiped his palms on his jeans and crossed his arms, “Provided there is a next time.”

Stiles sat upright, pulling his shoes back on, “Of course there’ll be a next time. I mean, you don’t have plants at your house, but you **do** still have the books,” Stiles said as he stood up and walked by Peter, snagging the front of his shirt before he opened the door, “Maybe I won’t even come over to get a book, maybe I’ll just come over to bug you.”

Peter looked down to where Stiles was holding his shirt before meeting the younger man’s eyes, smiling slowly, “Unfortunately for you, I have nerves of steel. I’m not like Derek, I rather enjoy your company.”

He reached up and put his hand over Stiles’s as he stepped closer, the proximity torturous, because all he’d have to do would be to lean in about an inch and they’d be kissing, again, “I’d like to see you try, though.”

Stiles leaned in even closer, lips just ghosting over Peter’s, “Yeah, but see, Derek’s never complained about my nail biting habits,” He raised his brows in challenge, “I’m not sure if you’ve seen what I do to straws,” He let the older man go and stepped away, walking out of the room and back down the stairs, “Come on, don’t you have like Soap Operas to watch?”

Peter had to take a calming breath after Stiles stepped away and he smoothed his palm over his face before following, “Is that some sort of pathetic attempt at poking fun at my age?” He asked, trailing down the steps, “Because if so, it was executed poorly. Besides, you know what they say about older men.”

He stopped at the bottom of the staircase and brushed the side of Stiles’s jaw with his thumb, glancing down at his lips, “More experience to draw from.” The werewolf smiled and pulled away, opening the front door and stepping outside onto the porch.

“Oh, I... Definitely don’t have a problem with older men,” Stiles said as his skin tingled where Peter had touched it. He walked outside and locked the door, turning to look over Peter’s body, “ **Definitely** don’t have a problem with older men.” He preferred the werewolf that way, in all honesty, but it didn’t stop him from enjoying the jibes. God, Stiles could _think_ of how experienced Peter was, the man could totally show him a thing or two.

Stiles met the other man’s eyes and he leaned in suddenly, pressing a tentative, shy, grounding kiss against Peter’s lips for just a second and then quickly breaking it.

Peter didn’t really even have time to kiss back before Stiles had pulled away, and if he’d been somewhat sexually frustrated before, then Stiles was just making it worse. And that was a problem in itself, because he’d never really encountered anyone before who could do that to him - wear away at his restraint until he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take the teasing.

He shook himself out of his lust hazed stupor and made his way to the jeep, climbing in and buckling his seat belt.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mention of: Oral Knotting, Skull Fucking, Crying, Suffocation, and Exhibitionism.

“So, speaking of older men,” Stiles looked up from his project spread out on Peter’s living room floor. He was laying on his stomach as he worked, feet in the air, elbows being used to prop himself up, “My left-hand neighbor came over last night and told my dad that I was bringing home men, kissing them on the porch, and having sex with them in the house.

"Dad chewed me out about it, asking who you were and stuff. So... I told him I wasn’t seeing you, and then he **actually** got worried, because he thought I was sleeping around. Which resulted in me kinda maybe changing what I said to him and admitting that we **were** dating, just to get him off my back.”

“So we’re pseudo-dating, now?” Peter asked, smirking his amusement as he looked at Stiles from his position on the couch, “Are there any perks to this aside from kissing or was it just a poorly disguised plan to keep your father off of your back? I feel like I’m entitled to some liberties, here.” He propped his feet up on the coffee table and stretched, resting his forearms behind his head.

“Well, you’ve already been checking out my ass at your own leisure, getting me to sit in your lap, and dirty talking to me in public,” Stiles listed off, and he didn’t get a little hard thinking about the last two, **especially** the last one, “Was there something specific you wanted from me?” He glanced back at the older man, feeling his heart race.

“Oh, come on,” Peter rolled his eyes, “That wasn’t what I’d define as dirty talk, Stiles, trust me.”

The same perpetual smirk tugged up the corners of his lips, “If I **really** wanted to dirty talk to you, I’d tell you how hard I get anytime I _do_ check out your ass and that the thought of how that tight little hole of yours would feel wrapped around me is the only thing I think about when I touch myself. I’d tell you that your mouth was made to be fucked, and that I wouldn’t mind being the one to do it, just to see those pouty lips taking all of me in.”

The werewolf sighed and slouched more against the couch, “But no, I don’t suppose there’s anything specific I want.”

Stiles stopped and looked at Peter, eyes wide as he stared at the older man and his body heated as the werewolf spoke. He felt his dick lurch like fifteen times as the images started flitting through his mind and he made some kind of choked off whine sound before turning away.

There was the thought again, of Peter skull fucking him until he nearly suffocated, or lost consciousness completely. The fact that **he** was the only thing Peter thought of... Or was that just figuratively? Was he serious or just throwing out hypotheticals?

“Jesus fucking Christ, if you’d said _that_ to me in Walmart, I think I would’ve flat-lined,” He barely breathed out the words, shifting his hips on the floor and gasping at the small, minuscule sense of relief.

Peter’s smirk turned into a full out smile and he chuckled, admiring the curve of Stiles’s backside, “Perhaps it’s a good thing I didn’t, then,” He mused, reaching down to adjust himself when the scent of the younger man’s arousal hit him. The werewolf didn’t even bother hiding it, either, bulge perfectly outlined in the black denim clinging to his thighs.

Stiles was about as hard and aroused as he’d been when he’d had to pull over the jeep, but as it was, he couldn’t just get up and run off to do something about the massive boner he was getting just thinking of it, that image, over and over again of Peter straddling his head, holding him in place, trying to see if he could knot Stiles’s mouth.

He looked at the older man and his eyes zeroed in on the shape of Peter’s fucking dick out on display shamelessly, “I’ve thought about it,” He said mindlessly, not even realizing what he was saying until the words were out and his cheeks flushed.

“Care to elaborate on that, or should I just let my mind run rampant?” Peter asked, tone dipping just slightly to a suggestive husk. The younger man was testing his restraint yet again, and it was difficult for him to stay put instead of moving to the floor and pushing himself on top of the boy.

“Your dick in my mouth,” Stiles said. Though he was tentative, even nervous, it wasn’t right that Peter could just **say** those things to him and get nothing back in turn, it was time for revenge, even if it was a little embarrassing.

He repeated the image he’d gotten before, “Shoving it down my throat until I couldn’t breathe. That’s what I was thinking of in the store. You, straddling my head and holding me down and brushing the tears from my cheeks. When you asked for a penny for my thoughts, that’s what I was thinking of.”

Peter’s eyes widened slightly when Stiles actually told him, cock twitching in interest and he couldn’t stop from groaning, eyes flashing ice blue, “That something you think of often?” He asked, voice sounding wrecked, even to his own ears. He brushed his palm over the outline of his cock shamelessly, eyes focused intently on Stiles’s as the heat from his length seeped into his hand.

“Like... Constantly,” Stiles admitted as he watched Peter’s hand, “I was thinking about it before, about you trying to knot my mouth - any time I’m on my back, I’m pretty much thinking about you doing it, sitting above me with your knees on my biceps and skull fucking me, and I’m like... Staring up at you holding me down and fucking my mouth.” He was so hard now, just from voicing it aloud and watching Peter. Stiles shifted his hips again, shaking a little at the lack of friction.

“ **Stiles** ,” Peter growled out lowly, pupils dilating as he watched the younger man’s subtle shift of hips.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted the boy to keep talking or stop, any restraint he had was practically gone. And if Stiles was going to openly admit these kinds of things - torturing the both of them - then he wasn’t going to have any qualms about tightening his hand a little more around his bulge and rubbing at it insistently.

“What else?” He asked finally, licking his lips before letting his head loll back against the couch cushions, “What else do you think about?”

Stiles started to feel that shy discomfort climb back in, watching the older man’s response to his admission, “I... I don’t know,” He said, unsure, “That’s the big one, that’s kinda the one I think about a lot, all the time, I... I don’t really **know** enough about it to think of more than that. I think of like... Just you telling me to do things, and-that’s it, that’s all.”

He wanted to move, wanted to jump Peter’s fucking bones and offer himself like a piece of meat, but at the same time there was this curling fear of something else, a seed of doubt in his mind and that small, minuscule seed just started growing until he was on his feet and heading for the door, “I need to go.”

Peter furrowed his brows in confusion and stopped touching himself, groaning miserably as he pushed himself up off of the couch to stop Stiles from leaving, “Stiles, wait a minute,” He pleaded, trying to think clearly as he rested his hands on the younger man’s shoulders, “I’m sorry, that was... I shouldn’t have pushed, I’m sorry, really. Don’t go, I’ll stop and you can finish your project.”

“ **Push** ,” Stiles said suddenly, turning to Peter and staring at him furiously, “Goddammit, _push_ me, I **want** you to,” His heart was racing, cheeks red as his eyes stung with tears, mostly from the nervousness of actually **having** to stand up against someone, again.

“I want you to push me, I want you to tell me what to do, none of this settling and waiting bullshit. I don’t care if I’m some... Some kind of fucking freak, oh my God, just tell me to do something already, **please**.” He was standing there, shaking almost violently, fists at his sides as he tried to breathe.

Peter listened to Stiles and stood almost stock-still as he watched the boy tremble, dropping his hands from the younger man’s shoulders, “Go to my bedroom and undress... Completely,” He demanded, eyes darkening once again, “ **Now**.”

Stiles blinked, kind of taken a bit by surprise but his dick jumped at the tone of the older man’s voice. The flush of his cheeks reached his neck and his shoulders and he nodded, ducking his head and moving passed Peter.

He walked into the bedroom, heart racing wildly as he looked around for a moment, hands shaking as he reached down and started undressing, setting his clothes carefully on the bed and he turned to look out the french doors as he remembered Peter’s first comment about them. He pushed his boxers down, stepping out of them and tossing them aside before standing still, not really knowing what else to do, so he waited.

Peter stood still for another minute or two, giving Stiles more than enough time to fully get undressed and then he moved as well, trying not to seem too eager as he stepped into the bedroom. He shut the door behind himself and his eyes immediately dropped to the younger man’s groin, licking his lips as he took in the engorged length, so hard and pink.

Flitting his eyes back up to meet Stiles’s, he smiled tentatively before moving closer, circling him and stopping behind him, leaning to press his lips to the younger man’s ear, “Such a good boy,” The werewolf whispered, settling a steady hand on Stiles’s bare hip, “Knew you would be.”

He nipped at the boy’s earlobe and then pressed a trail of heated kisses down his left shoulder, “Get on the bed, lay flat on your stomach.”

Stiles let out a tight breath, having to close his eyes for a second to collect himself as Peter spoke. His body was already responding in so many ways, dick trying it’s hardest to touch his stomach and he struggled to regulate his breathing as Peter touched him and kissed his skin. It was impossible to hide how completely fucking ridiculously aroused he was and he wanted to just get off already, and maybe a few **more** times, just from hearing Peter talk that way.

He moved though, listening to the older man and climbing onto the bed, laying down on his stomach and trying not to think of what he _looked_ like to the werewolf.

Peter reached down and gripped his cock through his pants in an attempt to calm himself down, slightly overwhelmed with just how obedient the younger man was. He moved towards the bed slowly, eyes raking down along Stiles’s back and stopping on the soft looking ass cheeks, “You really do have a nice ass.”

The bed dipped under his weight as he crawled between the younger man’s legs, prodding them further apart with his knees, “Spread for me, I want to see all of you.”

Stiles smiled at the comment and nodded to himself in silent agreement. His stomach clenched at the following command and he wasn’t sure if Peter wanted him to spread his legs... Or spread his ass cheeks, so he did both. His body arched as he reached back with both hands, knees sliding on the sheets and legs spreading out of the movement. He felt the blush paint all of his upper half as he pulled his cheeks apart, thankful that he didn’t have to **actually** look at Peter as he did it.

Peter felt his mouth dry out when Stiles spread his ass cheeks apart, the younger man exceeding any and all expectations he had, “Christ, Stiles,” He groaned, leaning back enough to get a good look.

Resting his right hand on the younger man’s ass cheek - just next to Stiles’s hand - he let his gaze linger on the pink, virginal looking hole on display for him. Peter lifted his left hand and rubbed the pads of his fingers over the sensitive skin, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Be vocal,” The werewolf urged softly, pressing just the tip of his finger in, teasing the hole without lube, “Tell me what feels good and what doesn’t.”

“Vocal really isn’t ever a problem for me, I... Definitely not,” Stiles said as his body bowed slightly and he let out a soft sigh in response to Peter’s finger, “You don’t-don’t have to be too gentle... Yet. I finger myself **constantly** , I’m good, really.” He only confirmed fingering himself in passing, before, he’d never told Peter any more than that, but he wanted the older man to know what he did to himself.

Peter smiled and withdrew the tip of his finger, hands smoothing back over his ass cheeks once again, drawing his right hand back slightly and dropping it against the skin with a slight crack, not hard enough to hurt him, but enough to tinge the skin pink.

He grabbed the younger man by the hips then and jerked him up further on his knees before leaning in, pressing his lips to the whorled rim before biting the inside of his left cheek.

Stiles gasped in surprise, body involuntarily pulling inward for a moment before he stopped himself. He’d never really **been** spanked before, like never in his entire life, and he kind of wasn’t sure why it had even happened, but he tried to assume that it was... Kind of normal?

His dick jolted with him, and he stopped from saying anything about it as he felt Peter’s mouth on his body, “Oh my God.”

Peter continued to nip and lick at the skin, sucking flushes along the soft cheeks before running the flat of his tongue over the younger man’s hole, humming as he did so. He gripped Stiles’s ass and held him open as he stiffened his tongue and pressed in, his own cock leaking at how good the boy tasted, so musky and warm as his tongue jutted in and out, getting as deep as he could.

He pulled back and licked his lips, staring up at the back of Stiles’s head, “You taste divine, I could do this for hours.”

“I could totally just lay here for hours and let you,” Stiles responded, body trembling eagerly.

He wasn’t even kidding, it felt fucking amazing having Peter’s tongue pressing insistently inside of him. He hadn’t really read much into the whole D/s relationship thing, but Peter was kind of taking him by surprise with the comments about his body. He **liked** to know that the older man thought he tasted ‘divine’, it made him feel less self-conscious about himself, more like he wasn’t some kind of unusual freak.

Peter smirked and continued to fuck Stiles with his tongue, right hand smoothing up and down along the small of the younger man’s back, urging him into it and showing him that it was okay to grind back.

The werewolf growled, a low residual hum in his chest and he worked his tongue in and out relentlessly until his jaw started to ache. He gripped the younger man’s inner thigh with his left hand, kneading the flesh between his fingers as the one on Stiles's back glided back down so that he could fully press his index finger into the warm, wet, lax hole.

Stiles let out a heavy, pleased moan as he tried to push back on Peter’s finger, but not too much. He wasn’t normally a patient person, but it felt amazing, and he liked just letting the older man do what he wanted with his body.

He arched his hips down subtly for a moment, feeling the slide of the covers on the bed against his dick and he closed his eyes, trying not to make a complete fool of himself. He didn’t know the fucking protocol for _anything_ that was happening at that moment, he just knew that he seriously liked it.

Peter narrowed his brows when he noticed Stiles was trying to get friction and he withdrew completely, leaning forward against the boy’s backside, hand gripping the younger man’s neck to tilt his head to the side so that he’d have to look at him.

“No,” He said simply, kissing Stiles’s lips, “You’re going to come without your dick being touched, don’t do it again.” Smiling, he pressed another kiss to the younger man’s lips before leaning back on his calves, pushing in with two fingers this time instead of one.

“Fuck,” Stiles breathed as he closed his eyes and stopped moving altogether. It was horrible, how much of a turn on the simple command was, and considering that it was one he didn’t even **like**... God there really **was** something wrong with him for wanting this and being aroused by it.

He practically whimpered when he felt two fingers pushing into his body and Stiles kept his eyes forward as he fisted the sheets and fought the urge to rock back, even **more** worried about fucking up something now that he’d gotten a warning.

Peter bit down on Stiles’s left ass cheek suddenly as he curled his fingers, arching them to rub against the younger man’s prostate, rubbing at the spongy bundle of nerves as he sucked a hicky into the flesh, “Mine,” He murmured mindlessly, kissing the mark, “You’re mine, now, do you understand?”

Stiles nodded for a moment before actually confirming it aloud, “Yes, Peter,” He panted as he resisted the urge to palm his self, “I do, I-I’m yours,” He said, feeling his cheeks heat at the words. They felt kind of more intimate being said that way and it reminded him of when Peter had offered the bite to him, and he’d refused it. Now he was lying on the older man’s bed, and it was the truth, he was more Peter’s than he’d ever been anyone else’s.

Peter smiled against the skin and pumped his fingers in and out of Stiles, taking the time to tease his prostate on every other thrust in, getting wrapped up in pleasuring the younger man.

After a while, he’d completely forgotten about his own wants, so in tune with Stiles’s body that it was like he felt close himself, just from working the other man to the edge.

He withdrew his fingers and pressed his tongue back in, groaning loudly at how silken the rim felt around him, “Fuck, Stiles, I can just imagine how good you’re going to look with my come dripping out of you.” He pressed his fingers back in along side his tongue, alternating and nipping his way up to the lower part of the boy’s back.

“Oh-oh god,” Stiles bit his bottom lip as he listened to Peter, as the imagery caused him to squirm and his walls clenched around the older man’s fingers.

He was getting there, getting real close, to the point where he almost couldn’t think straight and his body just started rocking without his permission, trying to get Peter’s fingers to move, to thrust or something, anything to stop the knotting in his stomach and the burn coiling at the base of his dick, “P-Peter,” He wet his lips, looking down and watching his length bob around desperately.

“You’d let me do that, wouldn’t you?” Peter asked lowly, increasing the pace and shoving in another finger, “You’d let me fuck you raw, fill you so full of come it just leaks right back out of you?” He didn’t wait for the boy to answer before continuing on, mouthing against his spine, “I’d take it regardless, even if you didn’t want me to, hold you down and just take it, eat the whimpers right out of your mouth.”

Stiles made some kind of tight, weak whimpering sound and he came, body shaking as he continued rocking back into the fingers and cursing under his breath.

Goddamn, if his mental image of Peter fucking his mouth was anything to go off of, the older man’s comments were more than he could take. The thought of Peter just fucking him and not even caring if he wanted it or not-Stiles came a second time, not too long after the first and he groaned when it happened, so suddenly sensitive that he wanted to curl in on himself.

He stopped, looking down at the mess and feeling his stomach wrench, “Oh, fuck, sorry.”

Peter bit down on his bottom lip as Stiles came, reveling in the feel of the walls clenching down around his fingers and he reached down subtly, brushing his other hand over his cock a few times an released as he bit down into the tender flesh just between Stiles’s ass dimples.

He pulled off and rolled the younger man over - away from the wet spot - and moved to press his body against the boy’s, looking down at him before taking another kiss, “Nothing to apologize for.”

Stiles rose into the kiss, reaching up with shaking hands to clutch at Peter and pull him close. His fingers touched the older man’s face, thumbing the stubble along his jaw as Stiles’s whole body tried to press up and merge with the older man.

He wasn’t really surprised that he’d gotten off twice in short succession, it wasn’t a common occurrence, but he’d done it before. What **did** please him though was that Peter, another person, had managed to do what Amy couldn’t, and didn’t even have to touch his dick.

Peter pressed down against Stiles and kissed back heatedly, dominating, claiming the boy’s mouth and groaning against the slickness of his lips, “You’re staying the night,” He said, reaching down to fist the younger man’s hip within his hand.

“Tell your father you’re staying the night at Scott’s, then you’re going to work on your project some more... And if you’re good and do as I say, I’ll get you off again when we go to bed.”

“Okay,” Stiles agreed, though he was somewhat tentative.

The **only** person he’d slept over with was Scott, the idea of sleeping over with someone that... Well, it **was** Peter, which was already bad enough. But sleeping over with his... _Boyfriend_? _Partner_? Or what did they call him in this kind of relationship, a **Dom**?

Was Peter now his ‘Dom’, and he in turn became the older man’s ‘sub’? He didn’t really know. He had to trust that Peter knew what he was doing, because Stiles really **didn’t** , but goddamn he needed to read up on this stuff, “Um, now? Do you want me to call him now?” He asked stupidly.

Peter smiled and snorted softly, shaking his head and kissing Stiles once more before rolling off of the boy and to his side, “No, not right now, it’s still early yet. You can call him around nine or so.”

The werewolf propped himself up on his elbow and looked at Stiles, “Are you hungry?” He asked, licking his lips.

Stiles sat up, cheeks flushed as he scratched his fingers through his hair and he eyed their mess nervously before his gaze wandered over the older man’s body.

He felt like he needed to cover up, because he wasn’t really use to people seeing that side of himself, even in the locker room at school he'd always been nervous about it. Hell, he wasn’t really use to it himself.

He fought against it though, nodding slightly and meeting Peter’s eyes, “Starving, yeah.”

Peter noticed the way Stiles seemed to be fighting the urge to curl in on himself, to hide his nudity and he moved from the bed, gathering the boy’s clothes before moving back to him. He sat them down and grabbed Stiles by the ankles, smirking as he pulled the younger man closer to the edge of the bed.

“I’ll order take out while you work some more on your project,” He said, picking up the boy’s boxers and sliding his legs into them, kissing his ankles before grabbing his hands and pulling him to his feet in order to yank them up over his hips, “Is Chinese okay? Or would you prefer something else?”

“Uh, no, no, Chinese is definitely okay,” Stiles confirmed, eyes widening as the werewolf pulled him up and he couldn’t help feeling like the _way_ he was feeling was wrong. But it was so fucking exhausting to try and **not** get turned on by it. Peter obviously didn’t have a problem with it, though he was clearly older, and more learned, and Stiles was new to it all.

He wanted to ask the werewolf how it would be, how it’d be between them, what was normal, and how he should feel, but all that came out was-“This isn’t all gonna lead to like... Me wearing an ass-less gimp suit and having some kinda wolf tail butt plug up my ass while you ride on my back and whip my fingers, is it?”

Peter leaned to grab Stiles’s shirt and stopped before pulling it over his head, grinning and trying to suppress a chuckle as he looked at the younger man, “No,” He clarified, “Unless that’s where you want _this_ to go.”

The werewolf pulled the shirt over the boy’s head and his smile faded somewhat, “But I think this is more about you needing direction, needing someone to guide you and tell you what to do. I just happen to like controlling people, so it’s a win-win, really.”

Stiles could remember, very vividly, how Peter had been as Scott’s alpha, **very** controlling, very demanding. It didn’t fit, because Scott wasn’t one to listen to others. And no, Stiles didn’t really listen to others either, but this was circumstantial.

It was sex, mostly, but also the need of a... Father figure? Though Stiles technically had one, his dad had never been able to get things out of him like Peter could - probably because of sex, the promise of the werewolf getting him off had definitely been a factor in getting him to tell Derek ‘no’, “Is that what it is for you? You get off on telling people what to do? Is that how it is for this kind of like... Relationship? I don’t really know how I’m supposed to act with all of this, or what you want from me.”

“I can’t speak for others, Stiles,” Peter said, crossing his arms as his gaze flitted down to the boy’s lips, “But yes, that’s essentially what it is for me. I’ve always been the manipulative, controlling type, and I’ve been somewhat attracted to you since I first offered you the bite... It’s just convenient that you need something I can provide. And when I want something from you, I’ll tell you... Otherwise, don’t worry about it and just be yourself, okay?”

He reached up and touched the younger man’s cheek, thumb brushing the flesh almost tenderly as he raised his brows, “Do you have any other questions?”

Stiles had like **fifty** more, but he leaned into Peter’s touch, closing his eyes as he shook his head minutely, “No.”

He wasn’t sure he could act like himself around the older man when he knew that Peter knew he was some kind of fucked up thing that wanted to be told what to do by a man nearly twice his age.

He didn’t want to mess things up between them, but lines weren’t really clear in this new, twisted relationship they were getting into. And Stiles wasn’t even really sure if it was supposed to lead to something more than sex, or if he’d be doing wrong by expecting, or hoping, or thinking in anyway that it **would**.

Peter narrowed his brows at the lie, but he ignored it. It wasn’t anything big, anyways, and he trusted that if the younger man really wanted to know anything, he’d speak up sooner or later.

The werewolf stepped closer and pressed their mouths together gently, tasting the boy and feeling his lips against his own before pulling back, “Alright then, go finish your work and I’ll order the food.” He gestured to the door and patted Stiles on the ass playfully, the corner of his mouth pulled up into a subtle smirk.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mention of: Use, Force, Skull fucking, Suffocation, Corpse Mutilation, and Necrophilia.

Stiles had called his dad, as Peter had told him to, and informed him that he’d be staying at Scott’s. He wasn’t use to lying to his dad so shamelessly, and in front of Peter, nonetheless, but he didn’t really have a choice - and that was kind of the point of it all.

They finished their Chinese and Stiles laid on the ground still, typing out the project on his laptop late into the night before finally closing it and standing, joining the older man in the bedroom. It was weird, being at Peter’s so late, and seeing the older man during the nighttime hours when they weren’t involved in some pack mischief or something similar.

Stiles wet his lips as he glanced at the bed, at the covers now clean and changed, and then he was at a loss for words, because normally when he was on his own, he just went to sleep when he wanted to, and when he was with Scott, they passed out from staying awake too long, and he wasn’t really sure what to do now.

Peter stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped snugly around his waist, droplets of water sluicing down his chest and back as he looked at Stiles, and then to the bed, “Did you finish your work?” He asked and moved closer, stepping up behind the younger man.

The werewolf reached up with both hands and smoothed his palms down from Stiles’s shoulders, down over his biceps and forearms and then stopped, hands moving to grab the hem of his shirt and waiting to lift it depending upon the boy’s answer.

“Yeah,” Stiles said as he swallowed and glanced down at the older man’s hands, “I mean, it’s as finished as it can be, until class tomorrow afternoon."

The smell he normally associated with Peter was even stronger now, and he could barely breathe without taking in as much of it as he could, but he tried not to be so obvious with it, “Why do you ask?” He questioned the older man, raising a brow curiously.

“Because,” Peter said lowly and kissed the side of Stiles’s neck before lifting his shirt up over his head, dropping the fabric to the floor, “You did what I told you to, and that deserves some sort of reward, don’t you think?”

He smeared kisses down along the younger man’s shoulder and nipped at the skin as he wrapped his arms around Stiles’s waist to work on the button and zipper, “I told you that if you were good and did as I said, I’d get you off again,” He looked at Stiles from over his shoulder as he pushed both his pants and boxers down, “And I’m not one to go back on my word.”

 _Oh_ , Stiles thought as he looked down at his naked body, so Peter was actually being literal when he’d said that. He didn’t know that was the case, but he was suddenly thankful that he was persistent in getting things done, whether having been told to do it or not.

Stiles definitely liked the sound of a reward for things, though, and he turned then to look the werewolf in the eyes, “What would you have done if I didn’t finish?”

Peter stared into Stiles’s eyes and smirked as he stepped closer, one hand reaching to undo the knot of his towel and it dropped to his feet, “I would’ve gotten you aroused and then I would’ve made you go to bed without release for the next week.”

He licked his lips and let his gaze fall to the younger man’s obscene mouth, lingering on the cupid’s bow of his top lip, “But you did what I told you to, you were good, and being good merits a reward.”

The werewolf reached forward and grabbed Stiles by the hips, turning him around so that he could step closer, cock resting between the crease of the younger man’s ass cheeks, “Do you want me to get you off, Stiles?”

Stiles felt his insides churn at Peter’s words, and at the feeling of the man’s length against his backside. He wet his lips as he pushed his clothes away and he nodded eagerly, “Yes, I... I do,” He said as his body started to heat, it was incredibly embarrassing how fucking aroused Peter got him from practically doing **nothing** to him.

Peter hadn’t really touched Stiles at all, had whispered and spoke to him, and promised him things, and that was it, that was _all_ he did to get Stiles to this point, “Please.”

Peter grinded forward and groaned against Stiles’s shoulder, fisting his hips tightly, “I like the way you sound when you beg,” He admitted, breathing the younger man’s arousal in deep, “It’s not completely necessary, though, not right now. I’ll take care of you, get you off like I promised.”

The werewolf rutted against him some more, breath hitching, “Is this okay with you, or is it too much? Because I can stop, this can be strictly about you if you’d like.”

Each time Peter pushed against him, Stiles’s eyes widened a little more and there was no fucking way in the **world** that it wasn’t okay, “No, do it,” He wet his lips as he tried to breathe normally, “I like it, don’t stop,” He tried to assure the older man.

He arched his hips back the best he could, rolling them back into one of Peter’s movements to _show_ him how approving Stiles was. He couldn’t believe the werewolf was fucking rutting against him like this, it was dirty as Hell, and **seriously** exciting to think that someone could need **his** body in such a way.

Peter groaned at the sensation, able to feel the younger man’s heat along his length and Stiles’s eagerness made him impossibly harder. He pulled the boy’s hips back as he grinded forward, resting his forehead just between his shoulder blades as he rolled his cock between Stiles’s ass cheeks, “You feel so good,” He gasped, reaching around with his right hand and brushing his palm along the underside of Stiles’s length, “Taste good and feel good. I can’t wait to actually fuck you, it’s going to be amazing.”

“Mhm,” Stiles breathed as he arched his body, wetting his lips continuously now because they kept drying incredibly fast. He still wasn’t really use to being complimented so much, spoken to with reverence, and he was starting to wonder if Peter even really knew what he was doing.

He’d supposed that the D/s relationships involved that kinky BDSM stuff where they humiliate and insult you, or yell at you. Stiles didn’t **want** that, of course, but he’d been anticipating something of the like - not the **exact** opposite. It felt good, made Stiles want and ache for the older man in a way that told him being away from Peter was going to fucking **suck**.

He still wasn’t really sure what to say **back** to the werewolf, though, he wasn’t use to taking in compliments and responding to them, “Can’t wait,” He settled for agreeing and begging because he didn’t know what else to do, “Please, Peter.”

Peter rolled his hips forward harshly, pushing Stiles’s length into his grip even more, “I know,” He said, kissing the back of the boy’s neck as he slid his length between his cheeks, “I know.”

The werewolf reached up with his free hand and pushed at the top of his back, bending him over, “Hold onto the bed if you have to.”

Stiles did as Peter suggested, just to have something to put his hands on and ground him a little. He felt like his legs were going to give out under him, and every time Peter moved against him, it was like a coil tightening inside of him.

God, he didn’t even have to be **fucking** Stiles to make him feel like he was **being** fucked, “Oh God,” He said before taking in his bottom lip, keeping his waist firm and pushing back against each rock of the older man’s hips and groaning as he looked down at his purpling length.

“You should see yourself,” Peter said, mouth hanging open in awe as he watched his cock slide between the younger man’s ass cheeks, feeling the ridges of it and the foreskin catching on the whorled rim, “You look good enough to eat, all open and exposed for me.”

He fisted Stiles’s length, grip tightening suddenly on an uptake and he smoothed his thumb over the plush head, teasing the slit, “I could come just from looking at you like this.” His cock throbbed then, as if to verify the statement.

“Peter,” Stiles panted out, breaths coming in shorter as he felt his orgasm growing closer. He wasn’t sure, at this point, what was doing it for him more, the words Peter was saying to him, or the visual in his mind of what they looked like in that moment. He wanted to ask for more, but he wasn’t really sure how, or even if he **could** , so he just tried pushing back harder.

Stiles would give fucking _anything_ to be used by Peter, to have the werewolf force him... A bit... Or a lot. He suddenly became aware of the needy, whiny sounds that were coming out of his mouth as he tried to rut back in turn, and Stiles felt his cheeks heat, reddening violently.

Peter groaned as he watched Stiles, the younger man all wanton and eager for him, forcing his hips back like he wanted more. The sounds were what got him, though, what made his inner wolf come out and he pulled his hips back to spit on the younger man’s hole before grabbing the base of his cock.

The werewolf pressed the blunt tip of his length against the resistance of the muscle and grimaced somewhat as he shoved just the head in without prep, “I'm not sure if I want to come in you or on you,” He said as he continued to tease Stiles’s dick.

Stiles nearly shrieked as he felt the older man press into him just a bit and his eyes widened almost to the point where it hurt, “Oh-oh **fuck** , please,” He nearly growled out as his dick jumped in Peter’s grip.

He fisted the bed and whimpered as he waved his hips side to side to feel the head of the werewolf’s dick roll against his entrance, “Oh my God, that feels amazing,” He managed to get the words out before biting down on his bottom lip so hard it broke skin.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Peter smiled and fisted Stiles’s hip with his free hand to keep him from moving so much, “You’re so tight, I knew you would be.”

The werewolf increased the pace at which he was fisting the younger man and leaned forward to kiss along his spine, feeling his own orgasm coil in the pit of his stomach, “I think I’m going to come in you, just so I can see it ooze out and drip down your thighs.”

“Oh, fuck, that’s gross,” Stiles said, though he was **seriously** turned on by the thought of it.

The whole thing between him and Peter was probably going to get him into a lot of unusual things, he could imagine it already. Stiles remembered the thought of choking on Peter’s dick, suffocating almost, and he came so suddenly that his body pushed back of it’s own accord, legs shaking and spine arching to try and feel the head of Peter’s dick press in just a little more.

Peter chuckled against Stiles’s back and grunted when he felt the younger man’s muscles clamp down around the head of his cock, milking his orgasm out of him and he came inside of the boy, tensing and clinging to his hips to keep him still.

It was easy to see how conflicted Stiles was about all of this, because he said it was gross, yet his body reacted differently, “I don’t really think it’s quite as gross as you’re making it out to be.”

The werewolf pulled back and, predictably, his come began trailing out and he smiled to himself before catching it with his finger to push it back in, “Now, is it?”

Stiles gasped as he felt the press of Peter’s fingers and he looked back to try and see what he was doing, honestly confused, “What?” He asked breathlessly, still coming down from his orgasm and he had to pull his hands from the bed covers, fingers still fisted up in them tightly as he started to stand back up. He could feel the warmth of the older man’s release, and the full, packed feeling inside, but he wasn’t sure if he understood the ‘appeal’ just yet.

“Nothing,” The werewolf said dismissively, withdrawing his fingers from Stiles’s heat and observing the slickness covering them, “I’ll get you a rag, don’t move.”

Peter walked to his master bathroom and grabbed a clean rag, dampening it and stalking back out into the bedroom. He crouched slightly and caught the trail of come before it reached his knee, cleaning the younger man thoroughly before heading back into the bathroom to throw the rag into the hamper.

After sauntering back into the bedroom a second time, he moved to the dresser to get himself a pair of boxers, pulling them on before moving to the bed, “Are you tired?”

Stiles watched Peter, growing more confused as the man left the room and he stopped as he came back in and Stiles’s eyes widened as the werewolf cleaned him. He straightened up completely once Peter was done and frowned as he took a breath, “I... Not really now, I’m actually just kinda-did I do something wrong? Did I say something? What...”

It probably was a bit fucked up to think, but he’d wanted to keep the juices inside of him for as long as he could. His cluelessness and ignorance to a lot of what was happening was probably a turn off to Peter, but he’d been trying not to come off **completely** innocent.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Peter pursed his lips and shook his head, narrowing his brows at Stiles, “You said it was gross, so I cleaned you off, simple as that.” He moved closer as he stared into the younger man’s eyes, “What makes you think you did something wrong, Stiles?”

Stiles felt his cheeks flush and he shook his head, “N-no reason,” He lied, tentatively moving close to Peter and putting his hands on the man’s waist, leaning down to press a soft, calming kiss to the older man’s collar bone.

He still wasn’t really sure what he was **allowed** to do to Peter, but he didn’t like the idea of receiving everything and not giving _something_ in return. He wanted to thank the older man - even though Peter was giving him something he was still kind of conflicted about, and he didn’t understand most of it - he’d never felt so loved, not since his mom had passed away.

Peter reached up with both hands and cupped Stiles’s cheeks within his palms, eyes raking over his face before he shook his head, “Don’t lie to me, what made you think that you did something wrong?” He asked again and followed the question with a chaste kiss on the boy’s lips. He didn’t like the fact that Stiles had lied to him twice already, just in one evening.

“I don’t know,” Stiles lied again, wincing as he looked at Peter, “I mean, I **do** know, it’s just-I don’t know, I don’t know how to say it without sounding repetitive, or stupid,” He admitted finally, shrugging, “I just wanted it in me, and I know I said different, I think-kinda, I’m aware I said something **wrong** about it, but I’m seriously conflicted, like I’m feeling seriously bad and wrong about feeling this way about the things you’re doing to me, even though it’s turning me on.

"It sounds ridiculous saying it all out loud, but I’m worried about what others will think about it, because it really **isn’t** normal, is it? And I still don’t know what I can and can’t do, I just know what I want, but I don’t... I don’t feel right asking for it, you know I don’t.”

“Why does what any one else thinks even matter?” Peter asked softly, brows raised, “Do you go out and tell everyone what turns you on? It shouldn’t matter and they shouldn’t know. I get that you’re conflicted and I’m more than happy to help you experiment, to see what you like and don’t like, but when you tell me something is gross... How else am I suppose to perceive that? These kinds of relationships are built on trust and communication, Stiles. You said it was gross, so I took the liberty of cleaning you up.”

He sighed and kissed the younger man again, “As for what you can and can’t do, you can touch me, you can do anything you want... As long as it’s above the waist.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Stiles said, shaking his head and looking Peter’s body over, “But it isn’t. I only just figured this out a few months ago, and the last time I was with someone, it... You know, it really didn’t go well. I can’t help but feel ashamed, even if it gets me off, even if it’s what my body wants, I can’t help but feel shame. And yeah, I get that you’re an adult, and you’re _more_ than comfortable with your body, and who you are, and what you do - but I’m really **not**. I’m really good at jacking off and watching porn, and that’s the expanse of my experiences that haven’t went bad.”

He pulled from Peter and sat on the edge of the bed, “I’m still trying to be okay with what I’m feeling. It’s easier said than done.”

Peter crossed his arms as he stood before the younger man, looking down at him and frowning, “All I’m saying is... Is that you have a mouth and as difficult as it seems, you need to use it, because if you don’t, I’m liable to do something you don’t like or don’t want. I’m not judging you, you’re never going to be shamed for something you want when you’re with me, I need you to understand that... But I’m not going to know if you don’t say something. Communication is key and if we don’t have that, then we don’t have a relationship.”

Stiles nodded thoughtfully and wet his lips, reaching out suddenly to touch Peter’s waist and pull him closer as Stiles leaned in and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the older man’s skin just by his navel, his lips moved up, kissing over and over again as he grabbed Peter’s arms and pulled them apart.

Stiles took the older man’s right nipple in his mouth for a second, biting it roughly before continuing up to the werewolf’s neck and jaw, kissing underneath his ear before admitting, “I liked it, a **lot**.”

Peter gasped at the display, reveling in the feel of Stiles’s lips against his skin and he reached up, fisting the younger man’s hair and pulling back to look him in the eyes, “I could smell it, even though you said it was gross, your body betrayed you.”

The werewolf leaned in and kissed the younger man, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth and letting go as he pulled back, “I knew you liked it, I just wish you would’ve told me then.”

“I can’t help it, gut reaction, I just do and say **really** stupid shit I don’t mean some times,” Stiles admitted and chuckled, “And I don’t really know how to feel with **you** in particular, it’s a relationship I’m having a hard time understanding. Just don’t listen to me next time, if you know better, but I’ll try to be honest and up front. I just-I guess... I don’t understand how this is supposed to work. I keep expecting you to like... **Not** make me feel good, I guess. Does that make sense at all?”

“You’re under the assumption that all Doms are supposed to be cruel to their subs?” Peter searched the younger man’s face, “They’re not all like that, and most of the time they’re only like that because you want them to be. That’s not the kind of relationship I think you’d benefit from, and though I can be cruel, it’s not the kind of relationship you’re going to have with me. I’m not going to hurt you or beat you. If called for, I will punish you... But in other ways.”

“Like the denial, if I hadn’t finished my project. I guess I just assumed it’s the way it’s portrayed in social media,” Stiles shrugged as he pursed his lips, “Which was probably really stupid on my part, now that I think about it. But I can’t help it, it gets a bad rep. I’m curious as to _why_ you know so much about it, but I’ll settle with the mystery of the whole thing. But, since you do, care to enlighten me on **how** it normally is?”

“There is no ‘norm’, I can tell you that right now,” Peter moved forward, lowering his hands to Stiles’s hips and he laid him down, “It varies from couple to couple and it’s all about preference...” He hovered above the younger man and stared down at him, “What you want and what I want, it’s about finding a middle ground to where it’ll benefit the both of us.”

The werewolf leaned down and kissed the boy’s neck, smearing his mouth along the heated skin, “These kinds of relationships can be loving, they don’t have to be cruel. I can make you feel good **and** be in control at the same time, I don’t have to physically harm you in order to dominate you and you don’t have to physically please me all the time. We don’t have to conform.”

It didn’t sound **anything** like what social media made it seem like, that, and the **horrible** ads online he’d gotten just from browsing out of general curiosity. And while Stiles wasn’t sure what a ‘middle ground’ would be for them, he had an idea of what he wanted, he’d just kept it to himself thus far.

But considering what Peter had said, there was more to it than that. They had to communicate, which Stiles **wasn’t** , “Well, I don’t really know what it _all_ consists of, but I’ve liked everything so far,” He tried to exercise the admission part again, “Um, I like you being forceful, more of that would be nice?” It turned into a question and he frowned, “A lot more, would be **seriously** nice.”

“I can do that,” Peter nodded and smiled at Stiles, laying atop the younger man’s body, “Do you have a safe word in case it gets to be too much?” He asked and reached down to grip the younger man’s thigh, “Or would you prefer to use colors, instead. Green is good, lets me know I can continue. Yellow tells me I need to be careful and red means I need to stop, it’s up to you.”

 _A safe word._ That made Stiles think of some of the more dirty things in BDSM. He’d heard the term **plenty** in his life, and knew what it meant more or less, but he’d never thought he’d need one, “Color for now? I don’t know, a safe word sounds too vague, like all it really means is ‘stop’ or ‘no’, right? I don’t think we’ll even really have to worry about it, much, I’m... I mean my limits, I think, are all pretty reasonable, sensible things.”

“Colors are easier, anyways, good choice,” Peter said and rolled off of Stiles, moving to get situated in bed, “Come on, you have class tomorrow so you need to get some sleep.” He patted the bed next to him and pulled the covers down for the younger man, offering a small smile.

Stiles swallowed as his eyes widened a bit, but he followed the older man, sliding under the covers beside him and shifting in close as he stared at Peter and laid down completely. Somehow he’d managed to actually end up in a relationship with this fucking guy, and he wasn’t really sure _how_ , but this was the most intimate he’d ever been with another person, “That’s true enough.”

“You’re nervous,” Peter pointed out, shifting to get under the covers as well before looking at Stiles, “You don’t need to be, I’m not going to hurt you.”

He smirked and leaned towards the night stand, turning the lamp off before laying down and rolling to his side so that he could see the younger man’s profile highlighted by the moonlight filtering in through his window, “Would you like to go home?”

“No,” Stiles answered, thankful that Peter could tell, for once, that he **wasn’t** lying.

He moved even closer then, touching Peter’s cheek and kissing him as he grinned and laid his head on the pillow, “Lesson number one in Stiles, he gets nervous, a **lot** , all of the time, for no reason. But it doesn’t mean he wants to leave, or stop, or give up. It’s just him. I’m good, trust me, if I wanted to go home I’d be home.”

“Okay,” Peter murmured, kissing back and draping his arm over the younger man’s waist to pull him closer, laying nose to nose, “Good.”

He reached up and pressed his fingertips through Stiles’s hair, grinning slightly as he looked at the boy. It’d take a while for them to be on the same page, to know one another inside and out, but it was something he wanted. He wanted to be able to provide something for the younger man that others couldn’t.

Stiles closed his eyes at the calming touch of the older man’s hand and he leaned into it, reaching up to brush Peter’s wrist, “That too,” He admitted, “I like that a lot too, on the back of my neck, or my lower back,” He turned and pressed his lips to Peter’s palm.

“With your claws, too,” He remembered being out on the field with the older man, back when Peter was the great big alpha everyone feared, and he’d had his claws at Stiles’s neck. Yeah, he was scared shitless, but goddamn it was seriously hot, and he’d thought of it more than once afterwards.

The werewolf smirked and extended his claws, dragging one from Stiles’s temple down along his jaw, “I knew I smelled more than just fear on you back then,” He mused, trying to suppress a chuckle, “Shame, to think we could have started this party that long ago.”

Stiles opened his eyes and stared at Peter as he blushed and leaned in, kissing the werewolf as his fingers traced the backs of the claws, “It would’ve just complicated things then, let’s face it. And it’d be different than this, I wasn’t-I didn’t really know much about myself, then. I probably also didn’t have as many issues, but it-I was too scared of you anyways, I would’ve pissed myself, I nearly did, honestly. You’re probably the only werewolf I’ve actually been **terrified** of.”

Peter watched as Stiles touched his claws, almost mesmerized by it before meeting the younger man’s eyes again, “Are you still? Is that why you’ve been so nervous?” He asked, licking his lips before rolling back atop the boy and settling his waist just between his thighs.

“A bit,” Stiles said and swallowed as his eyes widened and suddenly breathing was **really** hard, “I mean, I get that you’re ‘good’, for all intents and purposes, but you definitely still have presence. I’m pretty much just a nervous, antsy, loud, boisterous person in general, but it’s worse when I’m around someone that can actually scare the fuck out of me. Why, does that like... Turn you on? That you scare people?”

“I wouldn’t say it turns me on per se, but it definitely effects me,” Peter shrugged and reached down to hike the younger man’s thigh up on his hip, “Makes me feel powerful, to know I can elicit that kind of reaction from people... From **you**.” He pressed the tips of their noses together before leaning down to kiss Stiles slowly.

Stiles kissed back and groaned into the older man’s mouth, his hands just barely touching Peter’s waist as he tried not to freak out too much. He pulled back and wet his lips, “A lot of the time, when I get off thinking about you... It’s questionably consensual at **best** ,” He said before he really considered what he was revealing about himself.

“I mean, not that I think about you while I get off, a lot,” He lied and smiled helplessly, “You were in **plenty** of nightmares, but it didn’t really take long for them to... Change.”

“Mm,” Peter continued to kiss Stiles, grinding down against him mindlessly, but just once, “And what am I usually doing to you in these dreams, just taking what I want from you?” He asked, corner of his mouth twisting up into a smirk as he nosed at the younger man’s mouth, “Forcing you?”

“Yeah,” Stiles breathed, wetting his lips and inadvertently brushing his tongue out against Peter’s nose, “Forcing me... In the field, on the grass, in my suit, or in the jeep, or against that car, or like I said... With the-the mouth fucking thing, just holding me down so I can’t move or stop you. Some times you’re cutting into my skin or biting me, and I fight back even though I want it."

"Some times it’s pretty brutal, not like BDSM, but like... You’re saying things to me, or forcing me and shoving me and pushing me into the ground. Some times I die, some times it’s just my body there, and you’re using me. Some times it’s seriously, morally fucked up.”

“I would,” Peter admitted, thankfully he’d never claimed to be morally good, “I’d probably even knot your mouth after you took your last breath, get off watching your lifeless eyes.” The werewolf was trying to show Stiles that he wasn’t alone, and that the things that turned him on weren’t something he needed to be ashamed of with him.

Stiles gasped as he listened to Peter and it probably said something, how immediately affected he was by the older man’s words, his dick filling and Stiles nearly whimpered in surprise, “Oh my god.”

The imagery had been vivid enough, and the wants and desires of his own, but hearing Peter affirm that he _would_ , that he’d use Stiles like that - any normal person would’ve been disgusted, or fled in fear, or freaked the fuck out - but it was so completely **arousing** to Stiles, “You can’t say that to me if you don’t mean it, I can’t tell if you’re lying or not, but I seriously hope you mean what you just said, oh my God.”

Peter smiled slowly and grabbed Stiles’s hand, kissing his fingertips before pressing them to his neck, just over his pulse point. The werewolf leaned down to whisper into the younger man’s ear, “I’d fuck your lifeless body,” He said slowly, making sure Stiles would be able to feel his pulse, “Use you up and mark your flesh, knot your mouth and use you any way I see fit.” He grinded down once more, offering some friction to the younger man’s hardening length.

“Oh, fuck me,” Stiles breathed as he felt his eyes water and his hips arched back in response. He slid his hand around to the back of Peter’s neck, scratching through his hair as he turned to the older man’s ear and kissed along it.

How was it possible that they fit like this? He wasn’t convinced that he wasn’t weird or seriously fucked up, but Stiles was immediately comforted that he wasn’t the only one, even if it **was** Peter. Maybe, especially because it was Peter. He didn’t really want it to be someone else.

The werewolf just happened to fit with everything he wanted, and everything his body needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an incomplete werk fer a long time. And seeing that the other writer of it has no further interest in Steter, I'm concluding it here. The end of this chapter felt really final, and I couldn't think to myself what would've been better.
> 
> I've spent months thinking of where else this would go. It was meant to be a one-shot, so this wasn't supposed to last ferever.
> 
> This news might upset some people, and I'm not surprised, I know you guys like my werk to last ferever, but that simply cannot happen. I have to move on to other things eventually.
> 
> However, I do requests.
> 
> So if you wanna cut in and request some kinda short from me from this AU or another one, you can always send me an ask on my Tumblr, or message me there using @MageStiles, I'll see it.
> 
> Thank you all fer loving our werks!
> 
> -Cammerel


End file.
